When the Ship Comes In
by King in Yellow
Summary: [repost] The proposal to add smalls to the police department provokes political upheaval in the city. Nick wants a peaceful life, but caught between large politicians and small leaders he won't have one. Judy has her own plans for the fox, but good intent does not always guarantee a good outcome. Ties up loose ends from Who Do You Trust? No ships were harmed in writing this story.
1. The Stillness of the Wind

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all copyrighted and trademarked by Disney the great and powerful. (FF.N guidelines forbid: "Copying from a previously published work (including musical lyrics) not in the public domain." Had a couple reviewers with low levels of English comprehension complain that says it forbids all lyrics. Actually, it says ALL copyright material if forbidden - which means 99.9% of the stories on FF.N violate their own guidelines. 'Including lyrics' means quoting ANYTHING WHICH IS COPYRIGHTED (which includes lyrics, but is not limited to lyrics) is forbidden. See first review for this story or my Rain on the Roof for full set of problems with that guideline. Short guidelines are nice, but can be shortened until they are meaningless nonsense. Shortening, "Don't breathe chlorine gas" to "Don't breathe" would be a similar example.) All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Set after **More to be Pitied than Censured.**

[Full story for the reason this is reposted can be found in an explanation I'm posting as the first review for this.]

In 1963, before Bob Dylan was Bob Dylan the Nobel Prize winner and was merely a scruffy folk singer who wrote brilliant lyrics but sang poorly, a hotel clerk refused to give the dirty bum a room after a concert. Joan Baez stepped up and vouched for him - assuring the clerk the unwashed man really was a performer and that the room would be paid for. For some odd reason Dylan felt insulted by the experience. (I feel a certain sympathy for Dylan. I like to dress comfortably. My wife, however, tells me that when I look like a bum I should expect people to treat me accordingly. While I admit that is a perfectly normal response from others I find it very judgemental.) That desire for revenge at the insult, along with Kurt Weill's Seeräuber-Jenny, inspired him to write When the Ship Comes In. I credit Dylan with inspiring parts of this story. Seeräuber-Jenny has something of an interesting story itself. In the original production "Pirate Jenny" is sung by Jenny and reflects her desire for revenge against those who mistreat her -= or who she feels are mistreating her. Later productions sometimes give the song to Polly. Apparently there are many women who have a desire to take revenge against those who have wronged them. (Copyright expired on Seeräuber-Jenny in many countries, but is still in effect in the United States for a few more years. This is one of the reasons FF.N guidelines need to explain what country's copyright laws they insist you follow.)

Chapter title from verse one of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **The Stillness of the Wind  
**

The shaggy canine's nostrils flared as they neared the door. "Nick's rabbit is here," Sam told Truckie.

"You smell rabbit?"

"I smell her cooking. Even if I don't get good cards It'll be a good poker night."

"A night out with the guys isn't enough for you? You've got to snack well too?"

"Just saying, poker night is fun, but poker night with good snacks is funner."

Truckie laughed, "True enough. Probably not a good idea to call her Nick's rabbit, though. She might find it demeaning."

"Can I call Nick her fox?"

"You might get away with it," Nick's old friend agreed. "I may even steal the line."

Eric was already there. "Where's Finnick?" Truckie wanted to know.

"Out on the road with Mirage," answered Nick. "She's putting on some kind of exhibition and he's working off his debt."

"Working for a female has got to drive him crazy," Eric chuckled.

"Maybe it will produce a kinder, gentler Finnick," suggested Judy.

"More chance he'll sprout wings and learn to fly. So Terry won't be here either?"

"Terry is coming with my sister, they're sharing a ride from Zoo U."

"And hoping one of them wins tonight so they can pay for the ride back?"

Finnick's younger brother, and Judy's sister arrived and the pre-game rituals began – the purchase of poker chips, arguments over who would sit in which chair, whether wild cards could be called, and Eric offering cigars.

Judy frowned when her sister took a cigar. "You nearly got sick last time you tried to smoke one of those remember?"

"That was last time," Susan assured her. "I won't inhale as deeply."

"Then why are you even... I give up."

"Are you okay?" Susan asked anxiously. "You never give up."

"I never give up going after my dreams. I can't force someone else to abandon a bad idea if she's over eighteen and that's what she really wants to do."

Truckie, who majored in philosophy against his father's wishes, intoned, "Knowing one's limitations is a sign of maturity."

"I dunno," Eric offered. "Remember, we're dealing with a rabbit who convinced a fox that he was in love with her." He looked at Judy, "We're down a couple players, want to sit in tonight?"

"No thanks. I'm just here to protect you all from the stale chips and moldy salsa Nick used to serve."

"And we are eternally grateful," Sam quickly assured her.

"You two are way too cute," was Eric's opinion of Nick and Judy. "You know Finnick would have something cynical and bitter to say."

Nick pointed out, "But he'd still eat the artichoke dip and baked brie."

"I said cynical and bitter, I didn't say he was stupid. Cut for deal?"

"Cut if you want, but artichoke dip is out of the oven in two minutes," Judy told them. "Serve yourselves before the first hand."

As players put the warm, cheesy delight on small plates Judy asked, "Did anyone see the article in the paper yesterday on the police accountability commission?"

"Read a newspaper?" "No." "Nope" And heads shaking 'no'.

"Nick's proposal for small integration into the police force was accepted enthusiastically."

"Cautiously would be a better adverb," represented Nick's opinion. "And I wouldn't call them my proposals. I was on a task force and–"

"You were the head of the task force."

"Doesn't mean the ideas were mine. Doc Wheeler provided–"

Eric asked, "He was that hamster, right?"

"Still is a hamster. He never recovered from it. He's the little bugger who sand-bagged me and got me appointed head of the task force, remember?"

"Of course we remember," Truckie assured him. "And the fact a hamster out-foxed any fox is impressive. But the fact he out-foxed you is almost unbelievable. I'm assuming Eric will rub your nose in it for the rest of our lives. I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned it yet tonight."

"I was waiting until I took a pot from Nick with a bluff."

"Then we'll never hear you mention it, ever," was the opinion of the fennec attending the university.

"And why do you say I'm the one who'll give Nick shit for the rest of his life?" Eric protested, "You won't?"

"Three times, tops. But I'll wait for the perfect moment. He will experience an exquisite triumph of some sort and as he basks in the hubris of his accomplishment I'll remind him of his paws of clay."

"Oh... What's hubris?"

"Thinking you're all that, when you're not."

Judy put her arm around Nick's waist. "I happen to think he is all that."

"You are kinda biased," Susan pointed out.

"I think she's a wonderful judge of character," Nick told the younger rabbit.

"Less chat, more cards," Eric urged and the players went to the table and Sam dealt out the first hand of the evening.

* * *

Between hands, sometime between the end of the artichoke dip and the unveiling of the baked brie, Truckie asked Nick, "The proposal you were working on, for smalls on the police force, will you need to get that through the powers that be in Rodentia?"

"Yeah, actually have a meeting set up Monday. Police Commissioner will be there. Going to be at the Big house–"

"Big house?" Terry chuckled.

"You know what I mean. Theoretically all the small bosses will be there."

Eric asked, "Isn't there some new boss? I mean, not that I pay much attention to Rodentia, but I heard some rumor there was one, and she's a real nasty piece of work... Chelsea... Chelsea something."

"Dagger," Nick told him. "Not sure anyone knows her real name. The story is she killed a panther in a fight, using a dagger. She lost an eye, and supposedly–"

"What species is this Dagger person?" asked Sam.

"A Norway Lemming."

"No way could a lemming kill a panther."

"I didn't say she did. I said that was the story. And the Norway Lemmings are pretty fierce, for smalls. I didn't send out the invitations to Monday's shindig. I think she should have been invited, but the story is she hates Big's guts and probably won't show. Or maybe she wasn't invited. I don't know if it will be good or bad if she's not there."

"How's that?" Susan wanted to know.

"If she's there, and everyone supports the plan, it means everyone is on board. If she's there and fights it, we may get nothing done. If she doesn't show it might be easier to get support from the old bosses, but she may be the first order of business if we get a small police force, 'cause she will be trouble."

* * *

"Half-time," Judy called from the kitchen. "Brie is out of the oven."

As the card players took a break from the game Nick casually asked Susan, "Did your sister tell you I proposed to her?"

"No! So–"

"You had no business telling her that," Judy told him.

"But he–"

"She said no," Nick assured Susan.

"No way! She–"

"And the whole story reflects very badly on Nick," Judy insisted.

"He really asked, and you really said no?" demanded Susan in a skeptical tone. "You said no?"

Eric expressed the general opinion, "We got to hear this story."

"What's to tell?" Nick shrugged. "I proposed. She was drunk. She said no."

Susan stared at her sister in disbelief, "You were drunk?"

"That's not–"

"Wasted," Nick assured her.

"If you ever want me to cook again for one of your poker nights you'll keep Nick from interrupting me and let me tell the story," Judy warned the others.

"Better listen to the rabbit," Truckie told Nick. "We want to hear her side before you offer a rebuttal."

"Thank you. Now, I'd had a bad day at work and a nice detective, large female–" She glared at Nick, who had snorted at the adjective 'nice' being applied to Detective Nyte. "She bought me a drink and offered some advice. She's been on the force longer than Nick or I. It was a large whiskey but I wasn't drunk–"

Nick raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. But I wasn't wasted. So Nick brought me home and–"

"Oh!" exclaimed Susan. "That was the night he called and asked for a soup recipe. Or are you getting smashed a lot?"

"I was not smashed. I'd simply had a little too much to drink. And yes, that was the night. It was very sweet of Nick to try and take care of me. And then he proposed because his mother told him to ask me."

"His mother told him!" Eric snerked.

"Yes!"

"No. I asked her to marry me because I love her. I happened to mention my mom thought it was a good idea and she's blowing it out of proportion."

"It was a pity proposal! I'd had a bad day and was drunk and he–"

"You said you weren't drunk."

"Fine, I lied. But it wasn't like I wanted to be drunk, okay? Lylah bought be a whiskey and I didn't want to insult her, I was just being sociable. Did any of you propose out of pity? What did she say?"

Terry held up his paws in an 'I never asked anyone to marry me' gesture.

"We were in bed when I proposed," Truckie said, "and very happy."

"Proposal after sex, or that was how you talked her into it?" asked Eric. "Hey, I took my wife out to a nice restaurant... Well, she wasn't my wife at the time."

They looked at Sam.

"I'm single."

"Ever propose?"

"I, uh, was drunk once or twice when I proposed."

"How many times have you proposed?"

"Three females, asked maybe four or five times... Letters to Gazelle don't count, right?"

Judy sought clarification, "But you never asked because you felt sorry for her, right?"

"No... I never made a pity proposal. But if one of them had felt sorry for me and accepted out of pity I'd have been good with it."

"And I tell you I didn't propose out of pity. I proposed because I love her. And she shot me down."

Susan tried to come to her sister's defense, "But she was drunk, so the 'no' doesn't count. She meant 'yes'. I'm sure she meant 'yes'." She looked at Judy, "Right? You meant yes?"

"I–"

Nick interrupted, "So, my spirits having been utterly crushed, I swore a great oath to never ask again. Or at least until after she has asked me to marry her. So, her turn to propose to me. That is, if she wants to marry me. I mean, she did turn me down when I proposed to her. That was days ago, and she hasn't asked."

"Don't make me wonder why I fell in love with you," Judy teased.

"You're serious?" Susan asked the pair in disbelief. "Females don't propose to males."

"They rarely propose to males," Nick corrected her. "Your sister is an independent spirit. She's the first rabbit on the Zootopia police force. If not the first rabbit to fall in love with a fox she's probably in the top ten. The first rabbit detective to get drunk with a panther. If she wants to marry me she'll propose."

"While I don't know Judy well," Eric mused, "my worry is she'll shoot you with a tranq dart and drag you off to a marriage drive-thru."

Sam suggested, "She could try getting him drunk."

"Or we could try playing poker," Nick reminded them.

* * *

Late in the evening, with Susan and Truckie already out of the game, Nick called, "Judy, my love, would you be so kind as to bring me a perry?"

She brought the fox a cold one, and stared over his shoulder at the cards he held. "Two pair is good right?"

"I'll raise," Eric announced quickly and shoved in chips.

"She was just asking!" Nick insisted. "It doesn't mean that's what's in my hand."

"I'll see the raise, and raise you," Terry told Eric and put even more chips into the pot. The fennec looked at Nick and grinned, "You in?"

Nick called. Eric saw the raise, and raised Terry. Terry saw the raise, and raised. Nick called. Eric went all in. Terry, who had more chips, called, followed by Nick calling.

"Three kings," announced Eric, and started to reach for the pot.

Terry stopped him with a, "Not so fast. Straight to the ten." The fennec reached out his paws for the pot.

"No one wants to see my hand?" asked Nick.

"Judy gave it away, remember? Two pair."

"Well, sort of. I have a pair of fours," Nick told them laying down the pair. "And a second pair of fours," he told them laying down the other two.

Terry groaned, "You set us up! Judy said you had two pair and–"

"Judy asked if two pair was a good hand," Nick reminded him. "She didn't say I was holding two pair. And I told you not to think it."

"But you knew that would make us think you had two pair!"

"It's a terrible thing," Nick said in a sad voice, "when you tell your friends the truth and they won't believe you." He then laughed and raked in the chips. He called into the kitchen, "Judy, Terry accused us of cheating!"

Judy came out to the table and put her arms around Nick's neck. She looked at Finnick's younger brother, "It wasn't cheating. To quote a very wise fox I met, 'It's called a hustle, sweetheart'."

Terry argued, "It was a setup."

"How was it a setup?" Nick demanded. "I told everyone the truth."

"Yeah, but Finnick always told me to never believe you."

* * *

Terry and Susan were the last of the poker players to leave. As they waited for their ride-sharing service, Fetch, Nick turned to Judy, "Will Hye and Tom be coming to the game Thursday?"

Without thinking Judy answered honestly, "No." She mentally kicked herself immediately, afraid she knew what Nick was about to do. She should have said, "I'm not sure." Her fears were realized when Nick told Susan and Terry, "Someone gave Judy four tickets to the game Thursday night. Foxes taking on the possums. Since her friends can't make it are you interested?"

It was exactly what Judy had feared. Fortunately Susan came back with, "No thanks." She said it too fast, and little too loudly. Judy picked up a nuance that Suze thought Judy and/or Nick was trying to set her up with Terry and was trying to say she wasn't interested in an interspecies relationship.

Perhaps Terry missed to tone of Susan's voice, or its implications. Perhaps he was simply being polite. But he passed with a, "Wish I could, but gotta book. Big test on Friday."

Judy breathed a momentary sigh of relief. It looked like her lies might continue safe. She had not been given four tickets, she had purchased four tickets and told Nick they were a gift. And she had not asked Hye and Tom. She had told Nick she had asked the raccoons so that, at the last moment, she could tell him they were unable to go and the two of them would have a little space around them in grandstand.

Susan, who really enjoyed football, changed her mind. "I, uh, forgot. My, ah, test on Friday was cancelled. I guess I could go. Yeah, should be a good game. Maybe Nick could bring his nephew?"

"I imagine it's too late for Josh," Nick warned.

Before Nick could suggest Suze ask some friend from the university Judy intervened with, "I might ask the tanuki on our team. I think he said he'd like to see the game." This was getting more complicated than she had expected. Worse than that, she was beginning to have some doubts about the wisdom of her plan. She tried to shake off the self doubt. Of course it was a good plan. She had invested too much planning, not to mention the money for the tickets, on it and it would work wonderfully. She told the nagging voice in the back of her mind, that whispered it was a bad idea, to shut up. Judy wondered briefly if she should call Suze and explain why she should not go the the game. But there were two problems with that. First was a question of how well her sister could keep a secret. The second was the conviction, based on the cigar earlier in the evening, that Suze would do what Suze wanted to do and there was no way to stop her – and the truth might guarantee she came to the game.


	2. The Wind Will Pound

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse two of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **The Wind Will Pound  
**

Late Monday afternoon, his shift over, Nick changed for his meeting with the bosses. Judy wished him luck before leaving for her apartment. Ben Clawhauser also wished him luck as he left for the second shift desk sergeant. There was a short wait until Vaughn Wheeler arrived at the First from the forensics lab.

"White dinner jacket? Really?" Nick chuckled. "You are so over-dressed. I hope you realize there probably won't be any attractive females among the bosses."

"You bought a new suit."

"Me? No way!"

"Price tag is still on it."

"Where?" Nick started to check.

"Okay, no price tag. But made you look."

"Still didn't buy a white dinner jacket."

The hamster seemed nervous. "I'm not used to working with live animals," he confessed. "And if this works, and smalls become real police officers, I'm calling this the biggest day of my life." He looked around and panicked momentarily. "Where's the zapper?"

"You don't have it?"

"Do I have room for– We need that!"

The zebra at the desk asked, "This what you're looking for? Must have come this afternoon. Just noticed Ben had a note on it for you." He gave them a small box and two animals drew sighs of relief.

A few minutes later a limo drew up in front of the First and they went outside. Mr. Manchas opened the car door. "Miss Judy will not be with you this evening?"

"No strictly business. Would it sound like I doubt your professionalism if I make sure you know about the next stop?"

"It would. Don't worry. We have time to spare if the Commissioner is ready."

The Commissioner was ready, but was not as anxious for the meeting as the fox and hamster, who fretted as they waited in the limo. After several minutes the lion strolled out to the car. He nodded at the pair already seated, "Nick... Nick Hopps. I remember you from the Accountability Committee. You had something to do with this thing tonight, didn't you?"

While the Police Commissioner was nominally the head of the committee Nick could remember only a pair of token appearances by the lion, mostly praising the leadership for doing a fine job and excusing himself to return to his office to attend to administrative details. "Nick Wilde, Sir. My partner is Judy Hopps and–"

"Oh, that's right. Leodore had me sign detective commissions for the two of you... I remember you now. Good work."

"Yes. Thank you. And I was head of the Task Force on Small Integration. The committee liked the recommendations we came up with and we're going to try and generate some support in the small community tonight."

The lion snorted, "With the bosses? You can't trust smalls–" He noticed Doc Wheeler for the first time, "Er, present company excepted, of course."

Nick quickly made introductions, "Commissioner Mustapha, this is Doctor Vaughn Wheeler. He's the head of forensic pathology in the police lab. And I feel like he is the member of the task force who contributed the most to the effort."

"Pleased to meet you," the lion said in a smug politician voice. "Now, what exactly are you hoping to get out of this meeting?"

"Did you read the task force's recommendations?"

"No time. I believe the gist of it is to try and establish an actual police force of smalls?"

"That's right, and–"

"And the bosses will never stand for it. No, they've kept the peace in Rodentia as well as it can be kept and–"

"Vigilante justice and mob actions are hardly keeping the peace," Doc Wheeler responded hotly. "The whole small community deserves recognition and respect."

"Don't get me wrong. I certainly do respect them. But there is no practical way to create a small police force, too much resistance. It's one of those pipe dreams like flying cars or an upgrade to Windows™ that actually works. It's simply impossible."

"If you had read the Task Force's ideas–" Nick tried to argue.

"Told you, a busy animal. A lot on my plate. To be perfectly honest I regard this whole evening as a waste of my time, and I rather resent the Commissioner of Police having to meet a collection of small hoodlums."

"Er, since you haven't read the proposals," Nick suggested. "Why don't you let Doc and me handle the talking. Your presence brings a lot of dignity to the occasion and–"

The lion muttered, "Dignity they don't deserve."

"Just remember, let Doc and me do the presentation."

The last time Nick had visited the Big mansion had been a birthday party for the shrew's grandchildren. He still felt nervous about being there without Judy, and the invulnerability she offered by being godmother to the twins. Still, despite his nerves, he noticed the preparations for this evening's meeting seemed as impressive as they had been for the party. Neither Doc Wheeler nor the Commissioner had been to the mansion. The hamster was so overwhelmed by the size and grandeur he was momentarily speechless, and even the lion was impressed.

One thing struck Nick as extremely odd as introductions were made. All of Big's bears were of the Polar variety. Two large bears with brown fur stood behind the bosses to one side of the room. One was the largest bear Nick had ever seen, slightly taller and definitely broader than even the largest of the Big bears. Nick had heard of Kodiak Grizzles, but didn't recall seeing one. He suspected that had just changed. The bears were so impressive he momentarily overlooked the small they stood behind. Her markings were the variegated tans, blacks, and blonde of a Norway Lemming, and she wore an eye patch. Nick wasn't positive, but suspected that demanding she be allowed her own bodyguards was an insult to Big.

Doc Wheeler knew it was an insult to Big. He was more willing to believe it was possible that a lemming had killed a panther in fight than Nick's friends had been. The variegated markings could be confusing to a large if a small moved quickly, and lemmings could move quickly. Smalls could, relative to body size, more faster than larges, which also gave credibility to the story. He'd also heard more of the story than Nick had heard, and if Chelsea had blinded the panther fairly early in the fight the large would have simply been a target for a small armed with a dagger. Doc Wheeler didn't know the story was true, he just found it plausible. Actually killing a panther with a dagger would be nearly impossible for a small, but it could be done it with a hundred shallow cuts and the victim bleeding slowly to death. He also studied the seating arrangement. Where a boss sat, in relation to their host, said a great deal about the individual's status in the community. Chelsea was not seated close to Big, she sat toward the end of the guests seated on his left.

Perhaps it was an insult directed to her on the part of Big. Doc Wheeler suspected it represented her actual level of power among the bosses. But Chelsea was an ambitious lemming, and would have preferred to be seated in a location based on her perceived importance and probably took her place as an insult whether it was intended or not.

The evening began with dinner. The trio representing the police were seated to one side, and the caterer had supplied portions large enough for Nick and the lion.

Vaughn Wheeler watched the bosses during the meal. Chelsea Dagger didn't drink from the glass in front of her, nor eat a bite from the food on her plate. Another insult directed at Big. Wheeler sensed that some of the bosses seated around her felt uncomfortable. The pathologist guessed they feared the wrath of Big would descend on that end of the room, and did not want to be caught in the violence. _"This meeting will not go smoothly,"_ the hamster thought. He looked at Nick. The fox still looked optimistic. Wheeler assumed Nick missed the small social clues.

The Commissioner sat to the side and looked bored as Nick and Doc Wheeler began their presentation.

Fortunately the pair had read the report – having drafted it – even if the Commissioner had not. The bosses were all somewhat familiar with the content.

"The new classes are not set in stone," Nick told them. "We assume it will take a few trial runs to tweak the performance levels required in the new classes."

"It is important that all police: large, short, or small, recognize the value of different skill sets. There will be tests shorts fail, but there will be performance tests where smalls excel and large recruits fail. It is our goal to have approximately thirty percent of small recruits fail the physical requirements."

"Why a thirty percent failure rate?" a boss asked.

"That is the current failure rate for large recruits on physical tests. If small passing rates, or failure rates, are too different it will look like the academy isn't fair to one size or another."

As expected, financial arrangements took the largest amount of time. Questions and answers went on for three hours. Smalls living in Rodentia didn't pay Zootopia taxes, but neither did they receive Zootopia services. The mobs took care of their territories which resulted in a patchwork of uneven infrastructure across Rodentia. Smalls living outside Rodentia paid Zootopia taxes, and enjoyed the city's services.

The implications of adding a small police force went far beyond simply putting smalls in uniform. It required money, and would require a Rodentia more integrated into the rest of the city than had ever happened.

Mob 'dues' represented a major source of revenue for the bosses. From dues they kept up properties and arranged for the security of their members. The bosses would need to finance the start of the new proposal, and allow taxation within Rodentia. Bosses who had diversified business portfolios might actually financially benefit from integration – it would require fewer expenditures for mob protection and infrastructure upgrades. Bosses who depended more on income from mob 'dues' would take a loss.

Nick and Doc Wheeler, a small who lived outside Rodentia, did their best to convince the bosses it was in their own financial best interest as well as the interest of Rodentia as a whole. It was impossible to tell how well they succeeded in making their appeal, but the stony faced bosses listened and a few jotted notes.

The acceptance of small officers in the larger police force also concerned the bosses. Larges tended to look down on shorts, and smalls were often ignored completely.

"I understand Zootopia wanting smalls for special units," one boss complained. "But no way will small officers be given real respect."

Nick and Vaughn looked at each other and grinned. It was the perfect transition to what they had planned as their final point.

"I believe your concern is legitimate," Nick assured him. "As we said earlier, the new curriculum is designed to help all incoming officers respect the skill sets officers of different sizes bring to the force."

"And if passing and failure rates are in line with those for officers of other sizes it will help create a greater feeling of equality," Doc Wheeler repeated.

"In addition the police labs are trying to create technology which will help bring respect to small officers. Special small units will create an appreciation for all small officers. Weapons are being developed which will allow a small to stop even a large criminal."

This caught the attention of the bosses. They had been told such technology was going developed, but it seemed impossible to them. Whether a small police force came into existence or not the bosses were very interested in the development of a powerful new weapon that could be used by smalls.

"This is intended to be strictly non-lethal," the fox told the bosses as he pulled the box from his pocket and placed it on the floor for Doc Wheeler to open. "The point is to incapacitate a suspect so that he, or she, can be taken into custody." Nick looked to Big, "I believe there is a volunteer?"

"Ah, yes. Kevin has volunteered to serve."

It wasn't clear if Kevin had volunteered or been drafted. The polar bear seemed nervous as he moved from his position along the back wall to the center of the large room. "Intended to be non-lethal?"

Doc Wheeler explained, "We're still working on some of the technical problems. Voltage levels and–"

"Voltage levels?"

"We don't have the battery capacity for a sustained current. But with tazers some suspects continue to struggle even after being hit. This is different. It delivers a short, but extremely high shock that is supposed to cause almost instantaneous unconsciousness because of nervous system overload."

A loud voice to Big's left called, "Excuse me, I do not wish to cast aspersions on our host, but I would like an independent demonstration of this device. Perhaps one of my bears could be used?"

A hush fell over the crowd. Nick knew Big's pride, and this was a very direct insult to his integrity – a charge he was working with the police for a faked trial. The fox did his best to calm the situation. "If our host does not mind, our goal is not to convince a reasonable animal who recognizes the device's potential. We want to convince the greatest skeptic in the room of the truth." He bowed to Big, "Would you be so generous as to allow a skeptic her choice of volunteers?"

"Butter would not melt in your mouth," Big told him. "Do as you feel best."

Kevin left left the position of honor with gratitude. "Amaqjuaq," called the lemming. The larger Kodiak sauntered to the center of the room.

"We aren't prepared for this change," Doc Wheeler whispered angrily.

"Well we sure as heck better get ready," Nick answered in a low voice. As the bear assumed his place Nick addressed the crowd. "The zapper was calibrated for a Polar Bear. Doctor Wheeler will need to do a fast examination of the new bear for issues like hair density to–"

"To explain why your device is a failure, like your plan?" Chelsea interrupted.

"It is a prototype. Not yet ready for mass production, still a few problems to work out."

"You should really hold your excuses until after you fail rather than offering them before you fail."

Doc Wheeler had finished readjusting the settings, to the best of his ability, and nodded at Nick. "Ready as we're going to be."

"No time like the present," Nick told him. The hamster fired a small dart, attached to a length of copper wire, into the ankle of the the huge bear.

Amuqjuaq remained standing. "You may offer your excuses now," the lemming said dryly. The bear standing in the middle of the room began to sag, then collapsed, face forward, on the floor. The entire room shook with the fall of the mighty.

Doc Wheeler rushed to the bear to check for vitals. "He'll be fine," he reported with a smile. "A very successful test."

The lemming fell silent, realizing she was not in a good position. She had insulted her host throughout the night, from demanding her bodyguards be allowed to attend to accusing him of rigging the demonstration. But the demonstration had proved real. And one of her two bodyguards was now unconscious on the floor. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

Big addressed the lion, fox, and hamster. "We wish to thank you for your time. It has been a most interesting meeting. You have given my colleagues and me much to think about and discuss. Your proposal is on the table. It will require a great deal of discussion given the magnitude of what you envision. I suggest you return home at this time. My colleagues and I will discuss the matter tonight. We may not reach a consensus and may require more meetings before we can reach a decision. Thank you again for your time."

Nick and Doc Wheeler both returned the thanks. The Commissioner was simply grateful to be leaving.

Big turned to his left, "Ms Dagger, you are free to go at this time with the representatives of the city."

Free to go, _at this time_. Chelsea suspected she was being dismissed as beneath consideration among the bosses. Perhaps she should be grateful she was being allowed to leave alive. Big had ordered animals killed for smaller insults to his honor. She was being told to leave with the police representatives, who would be witnesses to her safe departure. Perhaps Big would have a contract out on her tomorrow. She turned to the smaller Kodiak, "Apaata, please help Amaqjuaq outside until he feels himself. Wait with him there." She turned to Big and offered an almost imperceptible nod of the head, "I will confess I had not thought the task force could have prepared as thoroughly as they claimed. I was wrong in my early judgment. If you will permit me to take bread and salt I would like to be included in the evening's discussion."

It was very close to an admission of defeat. It acknowledged the weakness of her position and requested undeserved consideration. There was an uncomfortable minute of silence as everyone waited for Big to speak.

Big beckoned to Kevin. "Have bread and salt brought for my guest." He looked to another bear, "Raymond, please escort the police representatives to their limo."

* * *

Once in the limo the Commissioner looked like he wanted to speak, but Nick had a question for the hamster. "What happened there at the end? What's with the bread and salt?"

"It's a symbol of... Well, it's not really a symbol of friendship. Sharing food is a sign of peace. Bread and salt are the primal elements of the ritual. Did you notice that Dagger didn't eat any food during the meal."

"No," admitted Nick.

The Commissioner shrugged, "Females are always on diets."

"Well, it meant she wasn't open to peace with Big."

"Hence the bears?"

"Hence the bears."

"But when he told Kevin to bring bread and salt, that meant there was peace between them?"

"We didn't actually see him offer bread and salt. He could have had his bears attack her as soon as we left. She had the guts to send her bodyguards away."

"Or she's just stupid," the Commisioner sniffed. "She should have left when we did. I assume Big was sincere in offering to let her leave."

Wheeler thought a second, "I assume he was sincere in saying she could have leave. We didn't see food offered, or her eat. If she's attacked before she eats... But it would have been a loss of face for her to be excluded from the discussion. It took courage to ask for peace after insulting Big like she did tonight."

"Well, if there is one fewer small boss tomorrow Rodentia is slightly better off. And now I have to know, what in the Hell were the two of you doing?" the Commissioner complained as Manchas pulled onto the highway. "Where did you come up with that nonsense? You vastly exceeded the scope of what you were supposed to do as part of the task force on small integration,"

"You can't simply create a small police force without implications in the larger community. It's like throwing a rock in a pond, the ripples go out in all directions getting bigger and bigger. Those issues had to be considered, so we addressed them."

"Why wasn't I kept informed of these discussions?"

"They were brought up regularly at the Accountability Commission. They were in the Task Force on Small Integration report you didn't read."

"And you have no authority to arbitrarily say the city stands behind your proposal."

Doc Wheeler coughed, "Well, we did take the proposal to all the department heads of the city for input. That was also in the report you didn't read."

"And you found them all wildly supportive of this plan?" the Commissioner sneered sarcastically.

"One or two was wildly supportive," answered Nick. "A few thought there were positive aspects, if it gets implemented."

"And the rest? Those who weren't supportive or saw positive elements?"

"Everyone admitted it would require a great deal of work," admitted the hamster.

"I held my tongue, but your speeches about greater integration of Rodentia within Zootopia were nonsense. You can not, arbitrarily, commit the city to your proposals."

"All the city departments were willing to sign on, if the proposals were accepted. It was spelled out in detail in the report you–"

"Please be so kind as to shut up about your damn report. The operative phrase is, 'If the proposals are accepted.' The bosses will not accept them. The whole report was window dressing to show the mayor cares about smalls and nothing more. This evening was a waste of time. The bosses do not want change, and will not allow change to happen."

The passengers in the back of the limo remained silent until the lion left the limo. Nick and the hamster drew sighs of relief at his departure. The fox leaned his head back against the seat. "Can you believe he hadn't–"

"Crazy. But he really doesn't think the bosses will accept, so it looked like a waste of time to him."

"He might be right. I don't know. I'm just glad it's over. Whether the bosses accept or bosses reject, my work is done."

"You really think so, Nick?"

"Sure of it, Doc."

"And you're simply glad it's over? You don't care if the bosses accept or reject? It doesn't matter to you – all the time and effort you put into creating a plan that could work and you don't care if it comes into existence or not?"

Nick thought for a minute. "Well, maybe part of me really wants it to happen. It was a damn good plan you put–"

" _We_ all put together."

"Okay, damn good plan _we_ put together. But Commissioner Mustapha was right, it's hard to imagine the bosses will really buy it. Maybe I just say I'm glad it's over so I won't be so hurt if they reject the plan."

"They haven't rejected it yet," the hamster said and raised an arm. He and Nick exchanged a paw bump.

It was one-thirty when Nick quietly opened his apartment door to not awaken any of his neighbors. He noticed something near the door, a neatly folded rabbit-sized police uniform. _"It's a warning, I have a bunny sleeping in my bed."_ The day had been long and exhausting, both physically and mentally, but he grinned. Knowing he would wake up tomorrow with Judy curled up beside him freed him from the stress of the day.


	3. They'll Be Smiling

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse three of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **They'll Be Smiling  
**

Wednesday morning Clawhauser directed Nick to Bogo's office. The fox pondered, _"Wonder how I messed up this time?"_

The water buffalo seemed happy, and Nick drew a sigh of relief as Bogo waved him toward a chair. "Take a seat. Heard the news?"

"What news?"

"The Rodentia Chamber of Commerce, and we all know what that means, is holding a press conference at two this afternoon. And it strikes me as very unlikely they would be holding a press conference to say they have rejected the Task Force proposals. You and Doctor Wheeler must have made an incredible sales pitch."

"Decent. I suspect Big really put it over."

"Big? He's the biggest crook there is."

Nick shrugged, "Not disputing that. But in his own crooked way he loves greater Zootopia and feels like he tries to keep the peace in Rodentia. Twenty years ago he would have fought to keep the police out. He's old. He doesn't have an heir and–"

"He has a daughter, and grandchildren."

"He doesn't have anyone who can come in and fill his chair. I think he's afraid that when he dies the peace he's worked for will all go to Hell with gang warfare. If the police can be even handed I suspect he'll give us all the support he can while he's alive. That's my guess anyway."

"Could be. Me? I'm contacting all the members of the Task Force and inviting them to the celebration. If the bosses accept the proposal I'm buying the first two rounds at the More Healthier Nature Bar tonight. You can bring Judy."

 _"No, please, anything but the More Healthier Nature Bar! I hate that place,"_ Nick thought. "Sounds wonderful."

With kombucha the only item on the menu with even a hint of fermentation it was a chaste celebration that evening, befitting the fact every animal there worked with the police department in some capacity. Nick and Doc Wheeler were the only two with any doubts about the Police Commissioner and his analysis for the Mayor. The two of them hoped the Commissioner might have read and understood the report. If the Commissioner failed to support the recommendations they hoped the Mayor would accept the plan without the Commissioner's endorsement. But Nick, thinking back to the Night Howler case, remembered the Mayor liked photo-ops and tried to avoid real work – allowing administrators to do the real work of running the city. Giving Dawn Bellweather too much power had been a mistake. Nick hoped the lesson had been learned.

* * *

Thursday dawned gray and overcast. _"It's going to be a wonderful day!"_ Judy told herself. A small voice of reason in the back of her mind said, _"No, it's not."_

As Nick and Judy drove back to the First after gathering evidence at the scene of a holdup at a raccoon convenience store they heard a call for a possible robbery in progress at an armadillo bodega a block from their position. Nick pulled to the curb and they jumped from the vehicle. A suspect emerged from the bodega, stuffing cash in his pants. His gun went into his pocket and he started running, right toward where Nick and Judy were hiding under cover. The pair didn't even need to chase the suspect.

"I say, Rabbit," Nick asked as he cuffed the suspect and Judy unloaded the skunk's revolver, "have you noticed how much he looks like the description of the robber of the raccoon convenience store we were just at?"

"You might be right, Fox Male, you are ever so much smarter than I. Say, I have an idea. Why don't we take the perp by for possible ID after we get the statement from the victim here?"

"Good thinking, Chum. But remember it is alleged perp until proven in a court of law. We can't assume the fact he was stuffing loot in his pants and carrying a weapon as he exited from the scene of the crime mean he is guilty."

"Gosh, Fox Male, you're right. It is vital to remember that suspects are presumed innocent until–"

"Just book me," the skunk grumbled.

After booking the suspect and finishing their paperwork Nick looked out the window. "They'll cancel tonight's game," he predicted.

"It's not raining. I little sprinkle, maybe – but it will blow over."

"The forecast is for the rain to get harder this evening."

"The forecast is wrong all the time."

"The forecast is right most of the time. You only remember when it's wrong. Why don't we plan on just shooting pool or something?"

"It's going to be a great game. You love the fox team."

"The game will be canceled, and we'll be sitting there in the stadium in the rain – wet and miserable."

"How about if I promise to snuggle close and keep you warm? Please, Nick. Unless we hear the game is officially called off I think we should go."

"Okay," he sighed. "You had me at snuggle. But, I swear, if we get drenched–"

"I'll dry your back, you dry mine," she winked. _"Danger, danger – pull out while you can,"_ the nagging voice of reason in the back of her mind told her. _"Shut up,_ " she told the voice of reason.

* * *

"Looks like it's going to rain harder," Susan told them when they swung by the university to pick her up.

"You don't have to come," Judy suggested hopefully.

"But you two are going to risk it?"

"You don't have to come if you're worried about rain," Judy repeated.

"No... If you two think they'll play I want to see the game."

"Your sister thinks they'll play the game. I think it'll be canceled."

"Then why are you going."

"He's putty in my paws," Judy told her sister. "And they'll play. But if you think there'll be rain–"

"You almost sound like you want to get rid of me," Susan said as she got in the back seat. "Is that Tanuki coming?"

"No," Judy them. "He, er, thought it would be called off on account of rain." _"Bad idea! Bad idea! Bad idea!"_ reason shouted.

The parking lot had vastly fewer cars than would be expected for a game. The game could have been played in intermittent sprinkles, which was the current weather, but there were dark clouds to the north.

"Well," Nick asked Judy, "still think there'll be a game?"

"It hasn't been canceled. I say we wait and see what happens."

Nick looked to the back seat for Suze's opinion. "Well," the younger rabbit said, "as long as we're here already we should wait a little while."

The voice of reason grew louder and louder in Judy's mind on the short walk to the stadium. _"Bad idea! Stop it now! Call it off!"_ The volume increased the closer they got to the stadium. She finally admitted to herself, _"This is not a good idea." "So why didn't you listen to me the first fifty-seven times?"_ reason demanded. It didn't matter, she told herself and took a deep breath. If there was no game, nothing happened. Even if the game was not called off there was enough time to fix things. "You two find our seats," Judy told Suze and Nick. "There's something I got to take care of."

"You should have thought of that before you left," Suze reminded Judy's back as her sister scampered away. She turned to Nick, "That's not the way to the bathrooms."

"It's not the way to the closest bathrooms. Maybe she thinks the lines are longer at the ones near the door. Let's find our seats."

Judy panicked slightly. Which way to go? A bear in a security uniform stood to one side. She ran over, "Which way to the control booth?"

"You have business in the control booth?"

"Yes! I–"

"I don't recognize you."

Judy reached for her badge. He reached for his gun. "They checked for weapons at the gates, remember."

"I got no idea what you're reaching for."

"My badge."

"Your badge?"

"I'm a police detective."

"You're a rabbit."

"I know that. My name is Judy Hopps, and–"

The bear seemed excited, "You're Judy Hopps? Really?"

"Really. Do you want to see–"

"Wow, this is great. The wife won't believe me. Would you sign... I don't have anything for you to sign."

"Sorry, but I need to the control booth."

"Gosh! Is there a bomb? What's happening? Do you need help?"

"I'm fine, but I got to get to the control booth. How do I get there?"

The bear pointed, "Well, the stairs are there." Judy took off running before he could explain, "And the elevator is just around the corner."

Things were pretty quiet in the control booth. The sports announcers, a lynx and a woodchuck, tried to chat meaningfully about the upcoming game they felt certain would not be played. The beaver at the controls kept switching between cameras for the Jumbo-tron in the stadium and the television viewers. With no game to broadcast the cameras shifted periodically between the well-groomed announcers and the loyal spectators in the stands. Voice-over from the commentators continued as different families, couples, and individuals who looked interesting went on the Jumbo-tron screen. As foxes or opossums recognized their images they would wave to the camera.

"Well, Chet, it still isn't official, but I think it's safe to say tonight's game will be postponed."

"You're probably right, David. I'm still holding onto the slim hope we'll move ahead with the game. I think a wet field would favor the possums."

"Have to agree with you. We expect official word within five minutes. Assuming the game is postponed the station will be moving back to our regularly scheduled program, Demolition Kitchen."

"Should be an exciting episode. I believe tonight's topic is making explosives from simple household cleaning products and a cauliflower."

The beaver signaled the station had gone to commercial break.

"Let's wrap this up and get out of here," Chet told him.

"Sounds good. Hey, we had a half-time request. It was for a fox and a rabbit sitting together in Section G and we were supposed to put a proposal up on the Jumbo-tron."

"A fox and a rabbit? Seriously?"

"Would I make up something like that? And it gets crazier, she is proposing to him!"

"Seriously?"

"Swear to Dog. Anyway. There's not going to be a half time – but Wendell says he's got the fox and rabbit on camera now. She wants to propose, how about we give her the proposal?"

"Sounds good."

Judy panted, and slowed as she reached the top of the fourth flight of stairs. Why was the control booth so high in the air? She paused to catch her breath for just a moment and resumed the climb.

"Wonder what's keeping Jude?" Susan asked Nick.

"Hey," a fox sitting two rows behind called down to them, "you're on camera!"

The two looked up. Suze waved frantically. Nick hated having cameras on him. Before he could look away his name began scrolling across the bottom of the Jumbo-tron screen. "NICK WILDE - WILL YOU MARRY THE RABBIT SITTING BY YOU? SHE LOVES YOU VERY MUCH!" Two jaws dropped in amazement. Actually, many more than two jaws dropped in amazement – dozens among the foxes and possums sitting in the stands and hundreds if not thousands of the animals hoping to view the game on television.

Nick and Suze turned to each other in shock. "I... What... She..." Nick sputtered in embarrassed anger.

"She's an idiot," Suze agreed. "Kiss me."

"Kiss you?"

"Look, she planned to be here with you. People will think you accepted the proposal."

"I'm not even talking to her at the moment."

"Nick, she loves you!"

"And this is how she shows it?" the fox shot back, then turned and left his seat, headed for an exit.

Susan stood up and ran off in the other direction to find Judy, warn her the plan had gone hideously wrong, and to demand to know what Judy had been thinking.

"Ouch," David commented in the booth – his comments going out to the television audience. "It does not look like that proposal went well."

"I'll say. We've seen a lot of successful proposals up here over the years," he told the viewing audience, "and some that really fell flat."

"I believe the term for this one is epic fail."

Meanwhile the beaver at the control panel noticed who had requested the proposal. He quickly typed it into the teleprompter.

"Breaking news about that failed proposal," David warned the viewers.

"The rabbit making the proposal was Judy Hopps."

"That couldn't really have been Judy Hopps, who broke the Night Howler Case, could it have been?"

"Seems pretty incredible, but I believe her partner is named Nick Wilde... Could we roll that failed proposal again."

"She looks a little different than I remember from her pictures in the news," Chet commented.

"Well, out of uniform and with different make-up... It was her."

"I didn't disagree, I simply said she looked a little different."

"You're right, of course, but we must maintain our counterpoint discussion to entertain the viewers." The two sports announcers and much of their audience laughed at the banter as the beaver at the control panel ran the clip of the proposal for a third time.

The door to the control room burst open and a panting rabbit gasped, "Cancel my request for a proposal on the Jumbo-tron!"

"Judy Hopps?"

"Wow, you got up here fast."

"You even changed your shirt."

"Cancel your request? I'm sorry he turned you down, but we can't erase the tape."

Judy wondered what they meant. "Changed my shirt? Turned me down? Erase the tape? What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Your proposal. Nick walking out on you."

"My proposal was for half-time! You didn't–"

"Well, since the game is a wash we–"

"What happened! What happened with the proposal?" she shouted.

"You were there."

"I wasn't there! That was my sister!"

"Your sister proposed to Nick Wilde?"

"No. No, my sister..." Judy stared in horror, "It just said that the rabbit beside you loves you!"

"That was what we were asked to put up."

Judy covered her eyes with one paw and tried to think. It had gone so badly in so many different ways she didn't know where to begin.

The camera animal in the booth had the camera on Judy as the announcers sought clarification.

"Can you confirm you made the request for the proposal?"

"Yes. Yes I did."

"So... Your sister is secretly in love with your partner on the police force and you thought she was too shy to propose?"

The beaver at the control panel announced, "And the game is officially canceled. The home studio now has the broadcast."

Judy tried to explain, "No, that wasn't– I got to find them! I need to straighten this out!"

She turned and ran from the control room. By good fortune she noticed the elevator. Judy's phone rang on the way down. Caller ID alerted her to the fact is was Susan.

"Where are you!" the younger rabbit demanded.

"Coming down from the control booth, are you and Nick still in your seats?"

"We both left."

"Where are you?"

"I was looking for you, now I'm hiding. I've got no idea where Nick went."

"Mad?"

"Doesn't even start to cover it... You were in the control booth setting that up?"

"I was in the control booth trying to stop it!"

"How could you–"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Judy snapped. "It was supposed to be at half-time and I tried to stop it!"

"Yeah, well find me and let's find Nick – if he's here."

"Where are you?"

"Restrooms by Section H."

"You said hiding?"

"Yeah. Lot of crazies who all have something to say to the rabbit who made the stupid proposal and got jilted."

Judy groaned.

Foxes, possums, and the occasional other species streamed out as Judy reached the ground floor. She fought her way through the crowds to the Section H restrooms.

"Suze?"

"Jude?"

"Where are you?"

"Third stall from the right. Don't even think about coming in. You've embarrassed me enough today."

A possum washing her paws at the sink hurriedly dried them off and fled the restroom.

"You can come out," Judy told her sister.

Suze launched an accusation, "You did that stupid 'do unto others as you would have others do unto you' thing, didn't you."

"That's not stupid."

"It can be. You'd have thought it was wonderful if Nick proposed to you at half-time, right? Proclaiming his love to the whole world and everything."

"It would have been romantic."

"That's your opinion. That wasn't what Nick wanted. You know he hates a spotlight on him like that."

"I know... I know with my head. But I wanted him to see how much I loved him, I wanted everyone to know... My head told me it was a bad idea. I should have listened to my head."

"So why didn't you?"

"'Cause my heart was louder... Until I got here, then I tried to stop it. I thought... They were supposed to put it up at half time! How mad was Nick?"

"Well, on the normal one to ten scale, I'd say an eleven."

"Ouch."

"Now the super mad scale goes eleven to twenty. At sixteen you start thinking about a slow agonizing death for the person you're mad it, and at twenty you attempt it. He was mad, but he knows he loves you and will get over it. I'd give him some time."

"Have I ever been patient?"

"No, but I hoped you learned something today."

"Yeah, make sure I'm the one by Nick when the proposal goes up on–"

"JUDY!"

"Just kidding. Let me find him, we're got each other on GPS on our phones." Judy took out her phone and did a search. "Oh, oh..."

"What?"

"You got the Fetch App, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"GPS says his phone is traveling on the highway. Either he's headed home or someone stole his phone. You sure his mad was only an eleven?"

"Maybe a twelve."

* * *

Their driver left Susan off at the university. The ride had not gone well. The otter had a local radio station on, and the co-hosts were joking about the failed marriage proposal, and Judy asking Nick to marry her sister Susan.

Judy checked her cell phone, which showed Nick, or at least Nick's phone, was at his apartment."

As she got out of the car in front of her dorm Susan heard Judy give the driver directions to Nick's apartment. "Bad idea. Give him overnight to calm down."

"No. This is... The fact he left us at the stadium? My first apology may not work. Second apology may not work. I want to start tonight."

"Wait for you?" the otter asked when he stopped in front of Nick's apartment. "You really the Judy Hopps who had the scoreboard ask a fox to marry your sister? He might throw you out."

"That wasn't what happened! Uh, just leave me. Maybe I'll sleep on the couch as a sign of contrition."

"What's contrition?"

"It means I'm really, really sorry."

"Yeah, bad idea to have your sister propose to him like–"

"That wasn't what happened!"

Judy hesitated a moment before knocking on Nick's door. Would she be better off waiting? She knocked timidly and received no answer. She unlocked the door and entered. "Nick?"

"Not now," came from the bedroom.

"I need to apologize," she told him and headed for the bedroom. A small lamp on a night stand lit the room dimly. Fully clothed, he lay stretched out on the bed, staring up the ceiling. "I had to apologize... That wasn't what I meant... I mean, I didn't think it through enough – but that was definitely not supposed to happen."

"Yeah. I figured out the first part – that is wasn't what you meant. How could you–"

"I wasn't thinking. I wanted the whole world to know I love you."

"I guess I figured that out too. Sorry I drove off and abandoned you and Suze."

"She said you needed some space. She said you told her you still love me?"

"Yeah. Remember we agreed to forgive each other when we screwed up?"

"I remember."

"I wasn't planning on something this big."

"It's not like I planned for everything to go wrong. Can I lie down beside you and have you put an arm around me?"

"I think I'm too depressed at the moment. I'm going out."

"Nick, Please. I'm so–"

"Not about you."

"It's not?"

"Not completely. Had a call from Vaughn. Doc says Commissioner recommended the Mayor not act on the proposals. Small special units, maybe. But ignore the big plan."

"But the Mayor can over-ride the recommendation, can't he."

"He could. But he issued a press statement rejecting... No, not sure he rejected. He might not have read the report either. He just rubber stamped the Commissioner's recommendation."

"But all your hard work!"

"Apparently doesn't mean a damn thing. I've been lying here trying to gather my strength to go out. That call from Doc? Amie... I told you about Amie?"

"The mouse on the task force?"

"Yeah, she's at his place, crying her eyes out on his shoulder. He asked if I'd go out and get plastered with them."

"You said Vaughn doesn't drink."

"He's willing to make an exception in this case. Bob – he was the hamster with the EMT unit – is already at a bar."

"Can I drive you?"

"I'm still upset with you, you know that."

"I know. But you love me and know you're going to forgive me, right?"

"Eventually."

"I'm hoping to earn some forgiveness points by being loving and supportive in your hour of need."

Nick managed a small chuckle, "Works for me."

"Would it make you feel any better if I proposed now?"

"No," he answered firmly. "First, too close to your epic fail. Second, a rabbit once told me pity proposals don't count."

"It isn't a pity proposal, I love you!"

"Yeah, sure. That line didn't work when I used it on you. Why should I accept it when you use it on me? I'm going out to some dingy bar to drown my sorrows with smalls and this isn't a pity proposal?"

* * *

It was nearly two when Judy helped Nick into his apartment. At least Nick could still move under his own power. Bob and Doc Wheeler had passed out. "I'll put 'em on a pillow or something and cover them with a napkin," Nick promised.

"And I'll put up Amie at my place... Nick?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Sorry about the proposal."

"I just got to tell myself you wanted to say you love me."

"I do," she assured him, and gave him a kiss. Ever the optimist she tried to cheer him up. "Things have got to get better for you."

* * *

(Always good to close with famous last words. Nothing like calling the evil eye down on yourself.)


	4. The Words Will Not Be Understood

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse four of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **The Words Will Not Be Understood  
**

Nick and Judy both expected a high level of teasing at the First on Friday. Nick resolved to laugh it off. Friends would drop it, and anyone who really wanted to irritate him would drop it if they saw he didn't care. Hampering his resolve was the fact he had over-indulged Thursday night and was tired and slightly hung-over, two factors that made it hard to laugh off anything. Judy wanted everyone to know what really happened, and resolved to offer a fast and simple explanation to try and kill the teasing. If Judy had any enemies they would have seen it as proof the teasing annoyed her, and it wouldn't have stopped them. Fortunately Judy had no enemies among the officers at the First.

Clawhauser, of course, teased neither. Ben listened sympathetically to Judy's frustration when she came in. He was happy to hear the failed proposal apparently had no serious consequences. Judy warned the Commissioner recommending the Mayor ignore the Task Force proposals might have Nick more upset. Judy might have meant it as a warning to avoid the topic when Nick came in, but Ben did his best to offer sympathy when the fox came in, five minutes late. "Sorry about the Commissioner not supporting you. It sounded good to me... Can the City Council still act on it?"

"If they want to. City Council has a lot of theoretical power, but they mostly just rubber-stamp the Mayor's recommendations. Fact he almost got defeated last election might give them some courage, but they've all got day jobs and trust the Mayor to define city policy. You know the odds of winning the lottery?"

"Something like a trillion to one?"

"Pretty much, and that's like five times more likely to happen than for the City Council to read and approve the Task Force report after the Mayor dumps it."

Detective Nyte may have been watching for Nick to arrive at the bullpen that morning. She pounced before he could get to this desk. "You break up with Judy over this and you're dead meat. She loves you."

"Hey, no break up. Just a minor stress fracture in the relationship."

"So, it'll heal?"

"It'll heal."

While Nick did not appreciate being threatened with bodily harm it showed the panther supported Judy, and Lylah hadn't teased. Other detectives were sometimes crude.

"Hey, Wilde? You really male enough for two rabbits?"

Nick shrugged, "You don't hear either one of them complaining."

Fairly popular was the theme, "Sisters? You're making it with sisters?"

"Jealous, or you lack imagination?"

Then, of course, since Susan was just eighteen there were the occasional comments about robbing the cradle or barely legal.

The common themes Judy heard most were, "Finally wise up and decided to dump the fox?" and "What do you have against your sister?"

Things might have returned to normal by the end of the day except for two factors. First, someone put the phone numbers of both Nick and Judy on-line and they began receiving calls and texts. And it was a slow media day and reporters were looking to fill space/time.

The majority of the texts/calls were from individuals opposed to inter-species relationships. The second largest group wanted Judy to explain why she asked Nick to marry her sister. The third largest category were those expressing support of inter-species relationships, "It's no one's business who you love as long as you're both consenting adults!." There were a variety of other texts, some hard to categorize, some easy to categorize.

"Another proposal," Nick told Judy. "With photo! Oooh, and she's not wearing much."

"You don't really believe vixens are really sending you sexy selfies, do you? They're probably scans that old male perverts are sending you."

"Never look gift porn in the mouth... Unless you've got a teeth fetish. But you're right, I should definitely save these as evidence."

"Nick!"

"What? You aren't getting proposals?"

"The things being sent to me? I delete them and want some kind of phone bleach – I don't even like touching my phone after it's had those things on it!"

Thursday's failed proposal would not have been worth the attention of the mainstream media if it were not for three facts. First the Mayor following the recommendation of the Police Commissioner was not a big story. Second there really was no other medium-sized story to fill news space. And finally the name Judy Hopps associated with the failed proposal brought it to the attention of everyone.

"Please, Suze," Judy begged over the phone, "will you handle the meeting with the press?"

"This is all your fault. You should do it."

"I know I should, but you know I sometimes panic when you shove a microphone in my face. And after embarrassing Nick yesterday I don't want cameras on him today. You know the facts. You can do it."

"If I do, you owe me."

"True. How about I take it off your tab for letting you crash here over–"

"Fine... But yesterday was major disaster. You wouldn't believe the crank comments I'm getting in the dorm."

"You're getting? Someone put our phone numbers online. Nick is getting proposals from vixens! I'm getting all kinds of filthy propositions."

Susan sighed, "It should blow over soon. Although the truth won't make the haters go away."

"I don't care what the haters think. I love Nick. But I want the truth of what happened to be clear."

And so, at two o'clock at the Zoo U student union, Susan faced animals from three radio stations, two television channels, and two newspaper reporters. There were two camera crews for the television stations. It was more than Susan had expected, and more than she believed the story deserved. Judy's fame in the Night Howler case was the only reason, in Susan's mind, for there being so many animals there. Susan explained carefully what had happened, and thanked them for coming to straighten out the confusion.

"Just a minute," a wolverine called, "question for you."

Susan wondered if he hadn't been paying attention. She had explained everything clearly. "Yes?"

"About your male friend, the weasel."

"I'm not seeing a weasel."

"When you visited you sister in the hospital, after the Three Bears arrest, you were with a weasel and told the nurses he was your male friend."

"Ernie was in high school with me. Nick has encouraged him to enter the Police Academy, and Ernie was concerned about Judy's health. Nick thought introducing him as my male friend would convince the nurses to let him see Judy. Nick was the one making the introduction, not me. Ernie is a friend, nothing more."

"Last summer you attended a wild party with a fennec."

"Terry is the younger brother of one of Nick's friends. He's an electrical engineering major at the U. I was new in town and he showed me the campus, and invited me to a student-faculty picnic. Innocent student-faculty picnic. Terry is a friend, nothing more."

"And the inappropriate photos you sent to a cheetah at the First Precinct?"

"I did not send any inappropriate photos. I sent a picture of Judy and Nick, fully clothed, talking. I sent it to their friend, Ben Clawhauser, who accidentally sent it out to pretty much all the police force. That mass forwarding was what was inappropriate."

"So, you will not deny you've sexted with other members of the ZPD?"

"Hearing no intelligent questions, I'm out of here," Susan told the media and turned and walked away.

A grip from a camera crew, a ring-tailed coatimundi, ran after her. "He's with the Daily Innuendo, it's part of Rudolf Mudlark's media chain."

"That koala who wouldn't know the truth if it bit him in the ass?"

"That's the one. You got to be really stupid to believe anything you read, or hear, or see in anything he's got a claw in."

"You really believe that?"

"I believe that. Unfortunately I also believe there are a lot of really stupid animals in the world."

"Great," Susan muttered, "just great."

"And idiots would rather believe a simple lie that worry about the facts. And advertisers go with the audience. But I don't think your story will last long, they'll move on to something else in a day or two."

"I guess I should just be grateful for that... Uh, your name?"

"Mateus," the coati told her and stuck out a paw. "Call me Matt. Pleased to meet you."

"Thanks for the advice."

"No problem. Hey, there's a huayño band playing tomorrow night at Club Quechua. Can I take–"

Susan started running before he could finish the question.

* * *

Judy had planned on cooking for Nick Friday night. She extended the invitation to Susan as well when a Twit-wit named her the wildest teen in Zootopia for dating outside her species. Judy might have taken them both out to a budget-breaking restaurant as a gesture of apology to Nick for the failed proposal and apology to Susan for getting her even deeper into the rumors. Under the circumstances, however, she decided it might be better for the three of them not to be seen together in public.

Dinner felt subdued, everyone feeling the tension. Judy and Nick almost felt a sense of relief when their pagers went off.

"All short officers report immediately?" Nick asked. "What does that mean?"

Judy advised, "Turn on the news. I'm changing."

What the news showed were smalls rioting in Rodentia, and in other parts of Zootopia.

"Don't know when we can get you home," Judy warned Susan as she and Nick left. "Spend the night?"

"Like I've got a choice? Hey, no problem. Stay safe."

In the face of small unrest large officers were helpless to do anything. All short officers had been called in, but they were too few in number to be effective. Even the shorts currently enrolled in the police academy had been drafted to try and handle the situation. Judy was assigned a female opossum, who was so nervous she complained she might faint. Nick had hoped he might be assigned Ernie, but was saddled with an over-eager raccoon who thought he should have been issued a sidearm.

"Slow, deep breaths. You can do this," Judy told her apprentice.

Nick reminded his, " _Protect_ and serve. You can protect a lot better if you don't shoot them first."

There weren't enough short officers and recruits to be everywhere. Small rioters simply went under cover when officers were near. Around midnight the report came of fires in a small warehouse area.

Judy and her possum, who was now feeling more confident, were assigned perimeter duty to keep spectators back.

Nick and his apprentice were told to watch and help the firefighters.

"Shouldn't I have a gun now?" the raccoon begged. "What if someone attacks a fireanimal or something?"

"You're not getting my sidearm. We're not going to a station house to get one issued to you now. And the most danger a fire fighter would have at the moment is a nervous raccoon who was armed."

"You really think there's a dangerous raccoon around?"

"I have my suspicions. Right now, just stay out of their way."

"But I should do something!"

"Okay, look around and see if you notice a small arsonist."

"Uh, what will a small arsonist look like?"

"Question anyone carrying gasoline and matches."

Nick stayed out of the way. He gazed at the flames. The warehouses were old, and in poor shape. He had a suspicion they were well insured and wondered if the owners had taken advantage of the riots to set the fires, or perhaps had even encouraged the riots to provide an opportunity to burn them.

As the flames were doused he approached a bear who seemed in charge, and recognized him, "Captain Black?"

"Yes, I... Nick Wilde, isn't it?"

"Yep. Hey, just had a thought for your arson squad."

"And?"

"If the owners list contents lost in the fire they should check inventories for... Your guys already know that, don't they?"

"Yeah," the bear chuckled. "Hey, you and the rabbit catch someone speeding – you should write them a ticket."

"Point taken," Nick sighed.

"Seriously though, you feel like there is a chance this wasn't just part of the riot?"

"Something just feels off, the whole riot seemed a little orchestrated."

"How do you orchestrate a riot?"

"Violins to the left," the fox suggested.

The bear laughed. "What's up with you and the rabbit?" Although it went against his nature, Nick offered the best possible answer, the truth, and gratefully went back to his apartment to sleep.

* * *

Nick's alarm awakened him before he had enjoyed enough sleep, but an auction which featured a large collection of 78s had a higher priority to him than physical comfort.

Judy slept until ten, when Susan woke her up to report she was heading back to university. Judy considered going back to bed for a couple hours, but decided not to risk missing football. She ate a large breakfast and headed to the fields so see friends. The events of the previous night were more on the minds of players than the failed proposal, but the subject did come up and Judy got more teasing, usually good-natured, at football than she had at the First.

On the major radio and television stations news anchors and analysts, along with talk show hosts brought up the question of whether the Mayor should have moved toward opening the police department to small officers. It was universally recognized that large officers had been completely unequipped to deal with small protestors... Or rioters. Even how to speak of the events of the previous night wasn't clear with some media outlets using protest and other riot.

The role of short officers in dealing with the events received general praise, with some speakers convinced that they would be sufficient to deal with any other instances of small unrest as the number of short officers grew. Other speakers took it as a sign that greater size diversity in the police force would be a good thing.

Radio and television outlets catering to listening audiences of smalls tended to portray the events of the night before as an example of large callousness toward smalls. Large animals in the city government or police force were seen as being clueless towards the inequalities smalls faced on a daily basis.

Nick heard at least part of the discussion, on a radio station catering to short animals, on the drive back from the auction. He cranked it up loud, not because he needed to hear the self-congratulations for how well shorts had performed but because he was afraid of dozing off.

He stopped at Judy's, "Want to order a pizza? I'm beat."

"Ohhh, you smooth tongued devil, how could I resist an offer like that? Tell me about your auction while we wait for delivery?"

"Tell me about your day," he yawned. "I'll give you my day while we eat."

"Sure you can stay awake that long?"

"I can try," he promised.

Judy related how the game had gone well, except for a couple team members who had brought up the failed proposal too often. "But it was really bad for poor Suze. I had to call up Mom and spent an hour on the phone telling her Suze hasn't gone wild in the city."

"What happened?"

"You know the junk group that was suggesting she was promiscuous?"

"Oh yeah, still at it?"

"Still at it," Judy nodded. "Well, they called Ernie, and Terry, and even Ben to ask about Suze. Terry thought it would be funny to... You know they've shared rides on Fetch a couple times?"

Nick nodded yes, not sure why it mattered.

"Anyway, Terry thought it would be funny to say he'd been in the back seat of a car with Suze a couple times and it was always fun–"

"Please tell me he's not that big an idiot."

"Apparently he is. He takes after Finnick."

Nick argued, "Even Finnick wouldn't... He probably would."

"So, Suze heard that, and called Ernie to tell him to say nothing but the truth if he got called. They'd already called Ernie, and he had told them Suze was a friend from high school. But when Suze told him what Terry had said he got jealous, or angry, or something. We may need to stop a duel."

"Wonderful," the sleepy fox muttered, "I'll call him after pizza."

After the pizza arrived Judy waited until Nick finished his first slice before asking, "The auction. Get any good stuff?"

"Prices were kinda high. Lost some items because they went way over value. But I picked up a couple interesting things I'd never heard of real cheap, one thing I've wanted for a long time, and got very fine copies of a two records I have in poor condition."

"Is five a good day or a not-so-hot day?"

"Would be a mediocre day, except for the one thing I've wanted a long time. That made it a good day. Not a great day. If those other records hadn't gone so crazy high it would have been a great day."

"You know, if you really loved me you'd tell me some of the seventy-eights you want, so I could buy one for you at an inflated price to show how much I love you."

Nick chuckled, "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Not since Thursday... Of course, there is a reason for that."

"Oh, yeah. Could you have found a way to embarrass me more?"

"I could have posted a picture of you in the shower. But you might have been proud of that."

The fox yawned again, and closed his eyes, "Love you, Fluff."

"Love you too, Nick... Nick?" She slipped a pillow under the sleeping fox's head and put a blanket over him.

* * *

The Commissioner of Police was on all the important radio and television news shows on Sunday morning, insisting that the fact the smalls brought an end to what he called a riot themselves proved that the small population was well served by their existing social structures and didn't need any interference from outsiders. And, of course, what constituted 'all the important radio and television news shows on Sunday morning' for the Commissioner did not include any of the stations which had a listening audience mostly of smalls.

In the afternoon the Mayor's office released an unusual weekend statement saying that the events of Friday evening to Saturday morning vindicated the Commissioner's recommendation.

Nick and Judy had the radio on for background noise as she made breakfast, until he asked her to turn it off.

The couple took in an early matinee on Sunday, then returned to his apartment for some 'quality time'.

"So," Judy whispered in his ear, "was that make up sex?"

"Wha..." Nick managed to mumble.

"I've heard that after a couple has a fight the sex is really great when they make up. Some couple even fight just so they can have make up sex."

With considerable effort Nick brought his brain back into focus. "Bad idea," was his opinion. "The sex isn't any better, there's just this relief you didn't break up. But that feeling of relief isn't worth the stress of worrying about breaking up. And a staged fight could get out of hand and cause a real break-up."

"I suppose you're right," she agreed, one paw playing with the fur on his chest. "Do you think this might be a good time to start talking wedding?"

"Excuse me? I think accepted proposal comes first."

"One of us will get it right, and the other will accept. Now, most interspecies couples just get married in front of the city clerk–"

"Because usually neither side of the family is happy with them. If one side or the other accepts it, the ceremony is often done that way."

"But both our families... Well, I don't think happy is the right word. Accepting seems right."

"Works for me."

"You know anything about rabbit ceremonies?"

"Never been to one. I hear they're huge and noisy."

"Huge... Get that many rabbits together and there is a lot of talking. Ceremony itself is simple. What's a fox ceremony like?"

"Small and private... Ceremony is... Ritual can take an hour. Think enough of your relatives won't show up for the wedding to protest you marrying a fox that it could be manageable in Bunnyburrow?"

"Even half my relatives are a crowd. And Bunnyburrow is a long way for your family... Think your uncle Charlie would come?"

"No. And I wasn't that close with his kids. Did you hear Eric's suggestion? Shoot me with a tranq dart and haul me off to marriage drive-through?"

"I heard. You're too heavy for me to load in the car. Have you considered a tranq for me?"

"Can't risk bruising your bunny butt. I'm afraid the easy route is out."

"And I'd like to share the day with friends... I'm thinking we should have our wedding here in Zootopia. Our friends are here."

"Rabbit ceremony or fox?"

"Doesn't really matter... I wonder if anyone has written an interspecies service that might be good?"

"Carrots, you're lousy at lying."

"What do you mean?"

"Little nuance in your voice. You've been looking online and found at least one you like. You're trying to make it sound casual – but I can tell you're lying."

"I haven't had a lot of practice lying, but I did happen to see a couple ceremonies I liked."

"And by 'happen to see' you mean you Googled 'interspecies wedding ceremonies'?"

"Interspecies marriage actually... One of the sites had links to ceremonies... You might be a dangerous male to marry, you are far too clever."

"And that, my dear Fluff," the fox said, and leaned over and kissed the top of her head, "is the real reason your mom and dad warned you against foxes. Too clever for our own good. It's a curse, but we've learned to live with it."

"But it has left you smug."

"It's hard to be humble under the circumstances."

"I should have listened to my mother and father."

* * *

By Monday morning the failed proposal had faded considerably from public comment. Unfortunately Susan remained on the minds of prurient animals. The weekend disturbances were the topic of conversation at the First. Some officers thought the events demonstrated the need for a small force. Others took the position that the fact smalls had ended it themselves showed a small force wasn't necessary. If anyone else shared Nick's suspicion about whether the warehouses were burned for the insurance money they didn't mention it, and Nick decided not to bring it up.

The morning and early afternoon were routine, gathering evidence at a crime scene – burglary which had probably taken place on Sunday, but not discovered until Monday morning. Judy collected several prints she thought would be of value while Nick worked out method of entry and looked for any clues the perpetrators had left behind on breaking in or exiting the scene.

"Amateurs," was Judy's opinion.

Judy and Nick returned to the First and Clawhauser beckoned them over, "Nick," he warned in an excited whisper, "there's a small waiting to see you. And she brought this really huge bear with her!"

Nick and Judy looked blankly at each other, then he turned back to the cheetah, "She have fur with different colors and an eye-patch?"

"Yes! You know her?"

"We didn't actually meet. Where is she?"

"I, ah, think she's at your desk waiting for you."

"Animals off the street aren't supposed to wait in the bullpen," Judy reminded him.

"It was really, really huge bear," Ben reminded her.

"Chelsea Dagger," Nick told Judy. "Why don't you do something else for a few minutes while I talk with her. She's supposed to be dangerous."

"I'm supposed to let the fox I love go into danger alone? We're partners, remember?"

"And I love you, and while she is supposed to be dangerous I can't imagine she'd do anything inside a police station. And, on the outside chance she has something she wants to tell the police privately she might feel more free to talk if I'm alone."

Judy thought a minute, "The next time I want to do something you think is foolish and stupid will you keep your mouth shut?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because..." Nick paused.

"Care to finish that sentence?"

"Would I be in more trouble if I said because you're a rabbit or if I said because you're a female? I'm hoping I may be able to get by with 'because I love you'. And you love me, and that's the reason you're telling me I shouldn't do something foolish."

"Good recovery. I don't know why everyone thinks you're dumb. You really think it might be a good idea to go in alone?"

"Can't be sure, but it might be."

"Then I'll let you do it. And you know why?"

"Because you love and trust me?"

"Bingo. Oh, and you've got fifteen minutes while I pretend I'm doing something meaningful. Then I'm joining you."

* * *

It was not the larger of the two bears Nick had seen on Monday evening who stood beside his desk, but he was still intimidating. The lemming sat on a pile of police reports atop Nick's desk.

"Standard procedure is you shouldn't be sitting on a detective's desk."

"I really don't care what police procedure is, and if you were serious about a small force you need to be more accommodating."

"Point taken. May I help you?"

"Have some information you need to hear. I've been hired to do a job and–"

"And I needed to hear that? It does strike me as odd, from what I've heard of Chelsea Dagger she doesn't work for anyone but herself."

"First, Boyo, what makes you think I'm not working for myself? But that isn't the information you need. You should learn to shut up and wait. Not sure if you paid me a compliment or an insult. Everyone will sell out if the price is right, and–"

"I don't believe that."

"Believe it, fox. Everyone has a price. It isn't always money. It could be the safety of a friend. It–"

"You threaten Judy and–"

"You really need to learn to shut up and listen. Who mentioned your rabbit? I said price isn't always money. Safety of a friend, getting a kid into the right college, information on an enemy. Everyone has a price. Oh, price may be more than you can raise – or the person may not be worth the price... Know a weasel who'd sell his soul for ten creds, but he's not worth five."

"Duke Weaselton?"

"You know Duke?"

"Everyone in Zootopia knows the Duke. Can I ask your price?"

"No, you can't. And we're getting too far off topic. I need to tell you the job I'm working on, I'm going to see Zootopia adopts your plan and gets a small police force."

"But you hate the police?"

"You like everything about your job?"

"No."

"But you do it anyway. Now, my first plan didn't work so hot–"

"The riots over the weekend?"

"I prefer to call them a spontaneous plea for civil recognition. They demonstrated the police were helpless to deal with problems in the small community."

"They did. You were right on that."

"Yeah, well it didn't change the game and it's going to take a game changer to get small police. Headlines on tonight's evening news will probably be the recall campaign against the mayor. And that's what I need to tell you about."

"Can't I just hear it on the evening news?"

"No, you see the law is you can't just launch a recall unless there is another candidate for the office. The animal running in opposition to the mayor is you."

"That's crazy. I'm not going to run."

"Not going to run? Then why is your application on file with the City Clerk?"

"I didn't file an application to run for mayor."

"Sure you did. Matter of public record at the City Hall - signed by you, witnessed, and notarized. All nice and legal. You didn't bring it in personally but the legal document is there – perfectly legit."

"I didn't sign any application."

"Your name never looked better. Any expert will say it's yours."

"I... Syd the lynx?" Chelsea nodded her head. "Always heard he was the best. But I'm willing to file charges against your witnesses and notary for false testimony."

"You'd do that?"

"You bet I would."

"And here I thought Vaughn Wheeler was your friend."

"Doc Wheeler? What did you do to him? You hurt him and–"

"I didn't do anything to the hamster. This was his idea."

"What?"

"After civil disobedience didn't work I looked for a smart animal who knew Zootopia politics, and I figured Wheeler was my best bet... Oh, second witness to your signature is that other hamster on your task force, Bob. You'll need to arrest them both."

"I will not run for mayor."

"You don't have to do anything. Your application is on file – let your candidate for assistant mayor deal with the press."

"And my running mate?"

"Vaughn Wheeler."

"The little bugger sandbagged me again," Nick muttered.

"Again?"

"Never mind."

The lemming held up her paws in an 'I don't know gesture'. "For some reason you impress the Hell out of him. He thinks you can do anything you set your mind to. Me? I'm not sure you've even got a mind. Since I didn't have a plan I went with his. I am capable of doing anything to get my job done successfully. There is an incentive bonus if I can manage it without killing anyone. I would like that bonus, but the highest priority is a successful meeting of the contract."

"Now, just to be clear, you're trying to get policing for the smalls, you don't care if I'm mayor or not."

"Correct, I don't give a damn."

"So if Lionheart wises up and proposes it?"

"You're off the hook."

"Any chance I can fire you from my campaign staff?"

"Interesting question, but you–"

"Got delayed," Judy apologized as she arrived on schedule.

The fox made introductions. "Judy, this is Chelsea Dagger, an up-and-comer in the small community. Ms. Dagger, Detective Judy Hopps, my partner."

"I've heard of you," Chelsea told Judy. "Respect the fact you push the system. Sorry about what happened to you last week. If you need any muscle," she nodded her head at the large bear standing against the wall.

"Breakdown in communication," Judy assured her. "Everything is fine."

"Ms. Dagger stopped by to see if I told you the news," Nick commented dryly. "I neglected to tell you that I'll be running against the mayor in a recall campaign." He looked at the lemming, "Do I have a party affiliation?"

"Yeah, the Equality Party. Wheeler thought it had a nice ring."

"Doc Wheeler?" asked Judy.

"Running on my ticket for assistant mayor."

"When did this happen? How did it happen?" demanded Judy. "Doesn't there need to be some sort of petition or something?"

"True enough," Dagger admitted. "City might consider amending the charter for how many signatures a petition requires. When it was written five thousand might have seemed like a lot. Zootopia is a lot bigger now. And given the number of smalls living in Zootopia voting wards, and given the organizations opposing him in the last election, it took less than twenty hours to get way over that. I've heard there are still animals wanting to add their names to the recall petitions."

"And all legal?" inquired Nick.

"So clean you could eat dinner off them. Wheeler wants it done honest."

"Yeah, right," the fox muttered.

Judy looked at her partner, "What does this mean for us? Will you be on leave to campaign or something?"

"I won't mean a damn thing in my working with you." He glanced at the lemming, "I have no plans to campaign whatsoever. Is that clear Ms. Dagger?"

"Fine by me. It's exactly what Wheeler said you'd do. He predicts your dedication to the job and helping the animals of Zootopia will play well with the voters."

"Ms Dagger is apparently the head of my campaign," Nick told Judy.

"No, I'm not," the lemming told him firmly. "My job is getting an effective police force for Rodentia. Now, to the extent that overlaps with you running for mayor, I will be glad to offer my support, but let's just say my name might not look good to some animals if they saw it on the list of your campaign staff. Wheeler says everything is going to be done nice and legal – at least in your campaign. That's a little more structure than I like in a contract. You need a large to head your campaign. A feline would look good in the role."

"Let's imagine, for the sake of an argument, I need to contact you for some reason. Should there be some way for me to do that?"

"Call Wheeler. He knows how to get in touch with me. You? You don't even know me, and have no idea why I might be promoting your campaign. I just stopped by today to tell you that your talk to the small civic leaders last week was appreciated, and Amaqjuaq is fine."


	5. The Mainsail Shifts

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse five of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **The Mainsail Shifts  
**

Monday night Nick recorded a new message on his cell phone. "Hey, this is Nick Wilde, and I'm no longer answering my phone unless your name is on my contacts list. My campaign website has answers to frequently asked questions."

* * *

Mayor Lionheart called the Assistant Mayor into his office on Tuesday morning. "A recall election? What is happening? Nick Wilde running against me? After I had Bash appoint him a detective? Where is the gratitude?"

Wilma Deering sighed, "You should have expected some backlash after rejecting the proposal to extend the police department to include smalls."

"Is that what this is about?"

"That's my guess. The recall petition was filed yesterday and the exact issues behind it aren't clear yet."

"Bash said developing a small police force would have been too much bother."

"It would have been a lot of work, but that doesn't mean it wasn't worthwhile. As I read the proposals the potential rewards outweighed the risks."

"But Bash said–"

"I know what he said, Sir. But you should have read the recommendations and decided for yourself. The fact the smalls in Rodentia were willing to accept the proposals gave you a window of opportunity to shape the direction of the city."

"A window of opportunity to fail," the lion grumbled. "And Nick Wilde! After I had him made detective!"

"You felt you owed him. His testimony at your trial helped sway the jury so you didn't go to prison and could run for re-election. He was the head of the task force that drew up the proposals, it is obviously near to his heart.

"I can't believe it," the lion muttered, "where is the gratitude?"

* * *

A report on Judy's desk when she arrived at the First contained information on the prints she had collected at the scene of the weekend burglary. Her guess as to the thief's amateur status appeared to have been partially incorrect – he was simply very, very bad at breaking and entering. But he was trying to improve himself, the burglary over the weekend was a higher end store than the places he had burglarized in the past.

Nick had taken an different route to the First than normal to avoid reporters and entered via a back door, all of which made him late. "Come on," Judy told him, "we need to check out last known address for a suspect in that weekend robbery."

On the ride Judy gave Nick the details on the suspect, "Rabbit, I'm sorry to say. Appears to be habitual. Small arrests, time in Juvi. Now twenty-two and has been out of jail less than three months."

"You guessed amateur."

"Have you gone professional if you get arrested constantly? Oh, last known address is his mother's house."

They flipped a coin and Judy chose knocking on the door while Nick covered the rear of the house. "You are very good at watching the back," she told him.

"Because I get a lot of practice watching your rear," he leered.

"I'm serious!"

"I'm not?"

"No, you're not. I paid you a real compliment."

"And I paid you a real compliment," he winked, "but I shall reveal the sorry truth. In my younger days I frequently had to climb out of back windows myself and run. So I have experience at what windows look like easy escape routes and what direction someone is likely to run."

"Avoiding jealous husbands?"

"Not usually. I wasn't as polished in my hustles when I started out, and there were on occasions, ah, misunderstandings and dissatisfied customers didn't always accept my no refund policy. So, since I am a fox of peace and deeply wish to avoid confrontation, the expedient policy appeared to be retreat."

"Okay. Text me when you're in position. But when you're figuring out the best line of retreat please remember we aren't dealing with a competent burglar."

At Nick's text, 'Now', Judy knocked loudly on the door. "Police! I have a warrant for the arrest of Wendell Lopp." She heard a noise inside the house. "Police!" she called again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," a feminine voice answered.

Judy had her pistol out, in case of trouble as the door opened a few inches on a chain. "You're a rabbit!" the surprised female exclaimed.

"Yes, I know. I'm also a police detective. You're Missus Lopp?"

"I am... You said my Wendell is in trouble again?"

"He is. May I come in?"

"He isn't here."

"May I come in? I need to ask you some questions about when you last saw him and where he might be."

The mother hesitated, then realized she might bring trouble on herself if she tried to refuse. "Let me get the chain off the door." The door closed, then opened fully at the rabbit took off the chain. "I haven't seen Wendell in days," she reported as Judy came into the living room.

Judy's ears picked up the sound of a window opening in another room, and assumed it was the son trying to escape. "That looks like a new television set."

"Uh, yes, it is."

"Mind if I check the serial number?"

"Fine, Wendel was here yesterday. He gave it to me as a gift, do you think it was stolen?"

"I won't know unless I check the serial number. You say he was here yesterday?" She took out a small flashlight and compared the serial number with those stolen over the weekend.

"Yes. But he said he was spending the night at a friend's house."

"Name of the friend? Address?"

"He just said a friend's house. I didn't ask questions."

Judy switched off the flashlight and pocketed it. "I need to write you a receipt and take the television set. The serial number matches one stolen a burglary. This gives me probable cause to–"

The mother sighed, "There are four other television boxes in the garage. But I didn't know they were stolen."

"Thank you. I'll call a black and white unit to pick them up. I'll take this to the trunk of our car and try and contact my partner."

"Your partner?"

"He was waiting outside. But since Wendell wasn't here Nick must be getting bored."

Judy had guessed there would be a pawcuffed rabbit in the back of their car, and a smug-looking Nick leaning against the vehicle when she got outside. No rabbit in the back seat. No Nick leaning against the car. She put the television in the trunk and pulled out her cell phone to locate her partner. Nick was out quite a distance, still moving fast, but seemed to be heading towards her current location. Her guess was that Nick was still in pursuit and the rabbit circling back. She studied the moving blip on her phone screen a few more seconds and took off to a point where she thought she would intercept the runners. She paused a couple times to recheck Nick's path, and readjusted her own trajectory.

Her efforts were rewarded in a couple minutes as a rabbit ran toward her, a pursuing fox perhaps half a block behind.

When Nick arrived Judy was putting pawcuffs on a rabbit, who had suffered minor road rash on hitting the pavement at top speed. "Ran... the... wrong... way... No... cover... What... was... he... thinking..."

"I warned you. If you read his rap sheet he has a long history of bad decisions," Judy reminded him.

There were two reporters at their car, demanding Nick give them interviews.

There were three prisoners in the car on the drive to the jail.

"You can't do this!" one protested. "We have freedom of the press!"

"Freedom of the press allow you to commit arson?"

"We didn't commit arson."

"Okay, pick a crime – any crime. Does being a reporter allow criminal acts? It allows you to protect a confidential source. It allows you to write anything you want. And it allows you to ask questions that would get you punched in the nose if you weren't a reporter. But it doesn't allow you to commit criminal acts. Interfering with a police officer in the performance of his–"

"Or her," added Judy.

"I was going to say that," Nick insisted. "And interfering with a police officer is a criminal act."

"All we wanted was a story!"

Wendell offered, "Want my story?"

"No."

Readover and Gannon arrested a television news crew later in the day for filing a false police report, apparently in the mistaken belief that Judy and Nick were the only detectives at the First and would respond, giving them a chance for an exclusive interview.

* * *

In his office Mayor Lionheart hummed happily. He called in his assistant mayor. "Did you hear the Gallop Poll?"

She answered cautiously, "Yes."

"Pretty great, right? Ninety-five percent for me. The recall is a waste of time."

"Perhaps. Did you listen to the details?"

"What details?"

"The recall is so new that seventy percent of those polled hadn't even heard of it. As more animals become aware of it the percentages will certainly change."

"Are you saying I should be worried?"

"I'm saying it is too soon to draw any conclusions. The last election was tight," she reminded him, "but you won. There were a lot of animals upset with how you handled the Nigh Howler Crisis. Some felt you should have been found guilty and not allowed to run again. You still won. Detective Wilde was one of the animals who defended you, so he can't count on those who wanted you sent to jail – they might be as angry with him as they were with you. But this will be on different issues, you might lose some supporters you had last election – you may pick up some voters who opposed you last election."

Lionheart sighed, "You might be right... But a fox and a hamster? I should win by at least twenty percentage points."

 _"The poll said the results were too preliminary to be meaningful,"_ the deer thought, but said nothing.

* * *

"Captain wants to see you," Clawhauser warned Nick as he arrived Wednesday morning.

Nick put the back of his paw to his forehead, and gave a loud theatrical sigh, "The curse of popularity! Everyone wants to see me... My fans adore me, you know."

The cheetah giggled. "Seriously, Nick."

"Yeah, I know. How come I never get called in for good news?"

Alces didn't tell Nick to sit. The fox saw two possible reasons. Either it would be brief, his hope, or the moose wanted to keep him uncomfortable during the tirade. "Do you have any idea how many phone calls we're getting from the media about you?"

"No, Sir."

"Too damn many. It is wasting time for the switchboard operators. And it could interfere with an emergency call. I haven't had a leave request from you."

"No, Sir. I plan to stay on the job."

"Well this morning your job entails a ten o'clock press conference where you will tell the media... You're holding the conference. You tell them where they can go to get the information they want."

"Pretty sure they couldn't broadcast my suggestion."

"Not a joke, Wilde. If you intend to keep working here during this crazy recall campaign you will tell your entourage to stay away, clear? I will put you on administrative leave if this continues."

"Please, I don't want that. This wasn't my idea, I–"

"Then why in the hell did you put your name in the ring?"

"Not my idea, really... You heard how Doc Wheeler sandbagged me for the Commission?"

"Yeah, but how–"

"Not identical, but pretty darn close."

"Get a backbone, fox. You're letting a hamster walk all over you. Now go to your desk and figure out how to tell the press to stay away."

"Yes, Sir."

Nick placed a call to the Forensics Lab. "You... You..." he sputtered, looking for words.

"Wonderful to hear from you?" Doc Wheeler told him cheerfully.

"Dagger says this was all your idea."

"Well, she wants a way to get a small force."

"And you threw me under the bus?"

"No one is going to take a small seriously," Wheeler answered, and Nick heard a bitter tone in his voice. "I don't know they'll take a short seriously. But I think you can do this!"

"I don't want to do it! I don't want the attention. And I sure as hell don't want to be mayor."

"If it looks like that might happen we can find a work around. If we bring enough pressure on Lionheart for him to accept the recommendations we can end the... Did she tell you that?"

"Yes, she did."

"Good. We hired a campaign manager for our–"

"Can you knock off the 'we' and 'our'? This is your baby."

"Sorry, Nick, but you are now the face of fair treatment for smalls. It is _our_ campaign. I'll try and see you don't have to do much– Hired a campaign manager, a good one, Elsa Adamson."

"Name is familiar."

"She ran the last campaign against the mayor. Before that she was a loud voice for him being jailed."

"Oh, yeah. Don't imagine she likes me... Was she hired because she's a lioness and it–"

"She was hired because she is very, very good. She may not like you but she's a professional and the best animal available."

As ten approached Judy asked, "Want me beside you during the press conference?"

"Thanks, Carrots, but when it hits the fan I don't want any of it blowing back on you."

Despite the fact it was improper behavior for the workplace, she gave him a kiss for luck. He didn't know if it would bring him luck in the press conference, but reminded him of how lucky he was to be in a relationship with her.

It was a bigger crowd than he expected. Nick took a deep breath. "Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking–" he began.

"Get over it!" someone in the media shouted.

"Hoping I won't have to. I plan to give you a brief statement, and then open it up to questions. I feel like I don't deserve to be here. What's that old cliché... 'I am not worthy'? I was pressured, I feel like I should say drafted, by friends who felt I could make the case for protecting the civil rights of smalls. I–"

"This about police or civil rights?" a reporter shouted.

"I said I'd speak first, then take questions," Nick reminded them. "But in answer to that question, I don't think you can separate the two issues. The police department should be there to protect all citizens of Zootopia. Your size shouldn't matter. Your species shouldn't matter. Whether you are male or female, shouldn't matter. Who you love shouldn't matter. Telling any size, or species, or gender, or orientation that they don't get the protection offered others is a mistake, in my opinion. I think Mayor Lionheart is doing a great job, for the most part. I applaud him for encouraging the police department to hire more shorts. I applaud that he set up an accountability commission to bring greater transparency to the police department. But when he rejected the commission's task force on bringing smalls into the department I felt like he betrayed the commission. As far as I'm concerned this should be a single issue campaign. Equal police protection for every size, every species, every gender, every sexual orientation."

"Are you saying the Mayor isn't concerned with equal protection?"

"My opinion is that rejecting the recommendation for a small police department denies equal protection. I'm sure he does not feel that way, and has some justification in his own mind. For me, the fact the small community itself was willing to buy into the recommendations says it should have been pursued."

"You really think you can get elected mayor by calling for small rights?"

"To be perfectly honest... Don't hear that a lot from politicians, do you?"

"We hear it a lot," a reporter shouted, "but they're always lying."

Nick joined in the laughter, "Well, here's an honest opinion from me. I don't care if I get elected mayor or not – if my candidacy can draw the attention the issue deserves and changes the mind of the Mayor then I've succeeded. I'm not running for office for myself, I'm running to call attention to discrimination against any group. Like I say, I feel Mayor Lionheart started something great with the accountability commission, I simply want that goal of equal protection to extend as far as possible in Zootopia."

"Saying the Mayor is mostly doing great won't get you a lot of votes. Will you list any other faults of the Mayor?"

Nick thought for a moment, "I don't plan to... I may see some fault in the City Council. Because Mayor Lionheart has, overall, done a good job in my opinion I feel the City Council sometimes fails to take its proper role in city government. They simply trust him. If there was more scrutiny of the Mayor's office he would not have been able to take money from the city treasury to hire Wolf Pac Security™ and fit the old power station as an isolation ward to try and help the animal's affected with the Night Howler serum."

"You testified at his trial you thought he had no criminal intent."

"I said that, and I believe it. What I'm saying now is not an attack on the Mayor. What I'm saying is he should have not had so much discretionary power. He wanted to keep the city safe, and despite Bellweather's hope that the infected animals would murder innocent citizens the Mayor's efforts kept that from happening. Do I believe he acted outside the law? Yes. Do I believe it was a serious mistake? Yes. There will never be a candidate for office who hasn't made mistakes. I've got a lot of serious mistakes in my closet – and I assume you will find them and bring them out before this is over. My point is that because he has done such a good job he was given greater power and access to the treasury than any mayor should be allowed. Lionheart wanted to keep citizens safe, and to me that is the opposite of criminal intent. But if the office were to be held by a less scrupulous animal – say a fox–" There was laughter from the reporters. "I feel the City Council needs to be reminded that the Mayor does not run Zootopia unilaterally – or at least he is not supposed to."

"And that's not criticism of the Mayor?"

"Not in my mind. I'm saying he's done a good job. But the system should have kept him from being able to act as quickly and decisively as he did. What I'm saying is the system should have checks and balances on _anyone_ holding the office of mayor. Were I to be elected I'm sure the good citizens of Zootopia would sleep easier if I couldn't touch money in the city's accounts."

More laughter.

"I'll take a few, brief questions. But I need to get back to work. I believe police work is important. You can direct questions to Vaughn Wheeler at the forensics lab or our new campaign manager slash strategist Elsa Adamson."

There was a low murmur at Elsa's name. "You hired Elsa Adamson?"

"Well, not me personally. The campaign did. I will confess to an embarrassing level of political naïveté which I'm hoping voters find charming. I was told she was the best animal available and we were lucky to get her." There were more murmurs among the reporters.

Nick felt a small thrill of hope that the lioness working on the campaign would draw more attention than his own comments. "Any other questions?"

"Do you plan to keep arresting reporters?"

"Only if they interfere with police business."

"You said you were pressured to run. Were the friends you say pressured you smalls?"

"Yes. Yes they were. Should it matter?"

"I... Uh..."

"Next question?"

"Will your partner be endorsing you?"

"Detective Judy Hopps will not be endorsing me. No police officer, in the role of police officer, is allowed to endorse any candidate for mayor. Departmental policy. Violators will be punished by public flogging. I believe that Judy Hopps, the individual, might prefer me as a partner rather than seeing me elected mayor – but you need to ask her that question yourselves – when she is off-duty and allowed to answer. Maybe she'll endorse me, as a private citizen, so she can get a new partner."

"Has either one of you proposed to the other since last Thursday?"

"And this press conference is for my candidacy for mayor, not my personal life."

"You don't think being in an interspecies relationship matters to the voters?"

"I'm sure there are some who will vote against me for it. There might even be some who will vote for me because of it. I don't think it should matter. As I've said repeatedly – equal protection for all, regardless of size, species, gender, or orientation. That, for me, is the issue."

* * *

"Ha!" Lionheart exclaimed Thursday as he read an account of Nick's news conference. "Did you notice how he praised the job I've done as mayor?"

"I did," Wilma Deering agreed.

"That'll get more votes for me!"

"It may. Of course some animals may like his humility."

"Humility? What's that?"

She sighed, _"Something you've never heard of, obviously."_ "When asked which candidate voters would rather have a beer with, a lot of them name Detective Wilde."

"Which candidate they'd rather have a beer with? That's a stupid reason to vote for someone."

"It is. Unfortunately there are a lot of stupid voters in Zootopia." " _And a lot of them vote for you."_ "Essentially Detective Wilde wants to turn this into a single issue campaign. He is charging Zootopia has discrimination issues." _  
_

"But I've always opposed discrimination. A lot of my friends are shorts."

"You don't need to tell me. There are a couple things to consider. Wilde is trying to limit the discussion to one issue. He acknowledges you've done good work in the area, but says you failed to follow through. That may or may not play well with the voters. But the election will probably not focus on that single issue. The fact he's in an inter-species relationship will come into play. His past will come into play–"

"And bite him in the ass," Lionheart predicted.

"Likely. But there are also the animals who don't like you for various reasons – who feel you've made poor choices like giving so much power to Dawn Bellweather, or abused your office by your actions in the Night Howler Crisis. Wilde doesn't have to bring them up for some animals to hold them against you."

"So you're saying..."

"I'm saying that the election issues will probably go beyond expanding the police department to include smalls – and you can't count it all going in your favor. I also assume you saw the name of his campaign manager?"

"I did."

"She's got a lot of animosity toward you, and serious campaign skills. If you haven't called S. Quentin Quale yet it might be time."

* * *

The Gallop Poll in Friday morning's paper showed the Lionheart beating Nick, if the election had been held Thursday afternoon when the poll was taken, by sixty-five to thirty-five percent. Deering told him not to worry about dropping thirty points, it simply reflected animals becoming more aware of the recall. She told him not to gloat over the fact he was still doing twice as well. "There are several weeks until the election, a lot will happen. But the press is likely to uncover more dirt on him – your mistakes are all already a matter of public knowledge... I believe."

"They are."

"Which is in your favor. Did you call S. Quentin Quale?"

"Yes. He's already on the job... Did you know he thinks you don't like him?"

"My opinion doesn't matter." _"He's not as good as Adamson, but she's not about to work for you. And it would look bad if you even tried to hire her since you've already got more lions on staff than looks fair."_

"He's already got me lined up for a number of interviews this weekend," the Mayor boasted and pulled a list from his pocket.

The assistant mayor glanced at the list, all radio and television stations which catered to large audiences. _"Does Quale not realize the days when a large candidate is guaranteed to win are over, or does he think this is the only audience Lionheart can appeal to?"_ "Certainly a good start, Sir." She hoped the Wilde campaign wouldn't notice where the Mayor did his campaigning this weekend. She knew it was a vain hope. Adamson probably had at least one staffer devoted to following everything Lionheart said or did, and would analyze every detail for any sign of weakness to exploit. It would look bad to contact Adamson about working for the Mayor, and the lioness would probably turn down the offer, but Deering still considered it for a minute.

* * *

"It has been a mixed-up, crazy week," Nick commented as he and Judy rode back to the First on Friday afternoon. "I'll type up the report. I'm so looking forward to spending time with you."

"Oh, Doc told you that I could make it to your rallies? I was thinking I'd surprise you."

"You just did. What the heck are you talking about?"

"The political rallies you have scheduled this weekend. Doc Wheeler asked if I could–"

"I don't have any rallies scheduled this weekend!"

"Sure you do. He told me about them and I can–"

"You can call him and tell him that I am not attending any rallies."

"You have to!"

"Why?"

"Because I agreed to introduce you at two of them."

"That hamster has got to learn he can't manipulate me."

"I promised Nick. I said I'd be there."

The fox sighed, "And you never break your word?"

"Not if I can help it. I said I'd attend."

"You sound like you want me to be mayor."

"No... No, I don't want you to be mayor. But last week, when Lionheart said he wouldn't support the Task Force recommendations and we went out with Vaughn, and Bob, and Amie? Smalls in the police force was their dream. It was my dream to join the police force. It was my goal. It meant so much to me... Amie wants it just as hard as I did. Maybe she can make it, maybe she can't. But she deserves the same opportunity to try. Size shouldn't matter."

"I'll attend the rallies," sighed Nick. "But from now on you talk with me first about rallies and not Doc."

Judy nodded, "Agreed... You know, Nick, if you get elected you have to marry me."

"How so?"

"How it would it look for unmarried Mayor to be sleeping with a police detective."

"Ummm... Good point. Maybe I should call one of those vixens who sent me the sexy photos."

"Nick!"

"Or a younger rabbit, think your sister's proposal is–"

"You're going to have a hard time typing that report with two broken paws and a black eye."

"Yeah, shouldn't joke about younger sisters. Sorry."

"Accepted."

"On the other hand, you do realize that I can't marry you during the campaign?"

"Well, to throw the question back at you, how so?"

"Voters would think I was cynically marrying you just to look respectable and gain votes."

"Eric's idea of shooting you with a tranq dart is sounding better to me all the time."

* * *

 **AN** : Sorry to whine, but the Night Howler story-line had logic holes, in my opinion. Peace between predator and prey species for thousands of years... Exactly how did the Bellweather mob think that branding predator species as dangerous would help prey species? Does it even make sense to use the terms predator and prey species after that much peace - or to imagine the prejudices of hundreds of generations in the past are still active?

But those questions pale in comparison to the Mayor's actions. One animal in a city of millions goes crazy. The animal should be put in the hospital and a team of doctors attempt a cure. But no, for some odd reason the Mayor is first to hear about an animal going crazy... In fact he is always in the first handful of animals to know... (Does he have some mutant power?) He instinctively knows it will be the first of many, so he quickly sets up a private restraining ward to lock away the animals that will go wild, hires a large private security firm to capture the animals that go crazy (in the case of Mr. Manchas they were close at hand even before Manchas went crazy) and guard them and the private hospital, and hires one doctor to work on a cure. And the Mayor believed that animals disappearing without a trace (which would look like the work of a serial killer) would be less threatening to society than telling the population that some animals had suffered mental breakdowns and were locked into asylums while a cure was being sought (and a cure was more likely to happen if a group of doctors were looking)? A reviewer, on first post, said Bellweather claimed to set up the mayor. How? Could she know what he'd do? The tip-offs didn't make him think conspiracy?


	6. The Whole World Is Watching

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse six of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **The Whole World Is Watching  
**

It wasn't clear if the first rally, on Saturday morning, was a rally for Nick or a huge outdoor party for smalls. Nick guessed that the bosses paid for it, and the real purpose was to improve cooperation between the various mobs who often fought with each other – but would need to learn to work together if the police department for smalls moved forward. Nick noticed a Kodiak among the larges in a fenced area to one side, but didn't see the Dagger. Doc Wheeler did more speech making. When Judy left for football Nick would have liked to stay and listen to a jazz group supplying music for the gathering, but was reminded he had other stops to make.

The second group was smaller, a support group for hybrids at a rented hall. There were equine cross breeds, rodent crosses, canids, and other families – along with a couple familiar faces. The fox was a little embarrassed by the praise Sam, a mutt, gave him as a testimonial. "I've always been treated like anyone else when we get together for poker nights." He actually started to tear up, which made Nick feel more uncomfortable since he had no idea how much the games meant to Sam. "It's just so... so great to be one of the guys."

Nick patted him on the back, "Hey, we don't mind taking money from anyone."

"Or losing it to me," Sam managed to chuckle. He suddenly turned and hugged Nick, "Love you, guy."

The microphone picked up Nick's, "I'm not really comfortable with this."

"Tough."

"Don't expect me to start singing Kum Ba Yah."

Mirage also spoke. "Nick and I go way back... I'm not going to say how many years. We were both young and stupid... I suspect some of what we were doing was illegal–"

"Speaking as a member of the police force," added Nick, "it certainly was. Fortunately the statute of limitations is over for that part of our lives. I don't need to arrest myself."

"Fortunately indeed. No one could believe a feline and canid would be partners, so we were a great team. Sometimes Nick was even an enforcer when someone tried to welch on a bet with me. We eventually went off in different directions, and became a bit more legal, but we've stayed friends. And I want to tell you Nick is the most honest animal I've ever known. He will not lie to a friend. Yes, he's done shifty things in his life. But if he's on your side and gives you his word, it is golden. I would trust this fox with my life – and I would trust him as mayor of Zootopia."

Wild applause followed Mirage's words. As the applause subsided the cat asked, "So, where's the bunny?"

"Football."

"Well, as long as she's not here I'll ask you, when are the two of you getting hitched?"

"That's... Say, did you know that she was jealous of you?"

"Me? You're kidding."

"Sure. She thinks I'm irresistible, and you and I were partners at one time – so we must have had a relationship."

"Nick, you're like a brother to me. But you and me? She does realize you're a canid and I'm a feline, right?"

"Hey, I'm a fox and I love a rabbit and she loves me. Why couldn't a feline find me attractive?"

"You are utterly resistible. I count Judy among my friends, and she saved the city. But seriously? Was she dropped on her head as a baby?"

* * *

Elsa drove him to his next event, "Okay, this is the League of Female Voters. Don't say anything stupid."

"That's asking a lot."

"No joking, Wilde... I mean... You know what I mean."

"That you'll rip out my liver if I say anything wildly sexist?"

"No, you're my candidate. I'll get you out of there before anyone else can rip out your liver. But you would make me look bad, and I don't appreciate that."

"I'll do my best not to embarrass you." He was quiet for a moment, then commented, "You really seem to hate Lionheart."

"He made us lions look bad."

"You expect lions to be perfect? I'm not perfect."

"You're a fox. Sorry if this sounds bad – but less is expected of you. I was a big supporter of Lionheart until the Night Howler Crisis."

"He was trying to save lives."

"He could have done it without breaking the law."

"I think he knows that now. Always easier to see what you should have done after it's over."

"I suppose you're right… That pool player was good and is articulate, but what is she?"

"Doesn't know what her parents were, abandoned as a kitten, raised by lynxes."

"Considered genetic testing? Maybe there was some reason her mom had to abandon her."

"Then you leave a note, is her opinion. She regards the lynxes as her parents."

"Think she'd consider taping some ads for you?"

"Maybe. She might need to check her sponsors to make sure they don't mind."

"I plan on using some of the attack ads I used last election, got a couple new ones filmed."

"No attack ads. I–"

"They were effective last time!"

"Whoever is elected, I don't want the air filled with ads attacking him."

"Very noble of you, but don't think it will stop the Lionheart campaign from running ads against you."

"Let me think," Nick told her.

* * *

The League of Female Voters seldom endorsed candidates for office, but Nick picked up votes at the meeting. He praised Elsa, encouraged more females to run for public office, avoided male-splaning, and listened far more than he talked about himself. It was his ability to listen to their questions more than talking about himself which earned him new voters. The females were unaccustomed to a male who could listen.

After the meeting Elsa uttered a cautious, "Good job. Oh, forgot to ask earlier. Had a call to the office yesterday. Volunteer took it down didn't have the best penmanship in the city – something about a Chelsea Dagger who'll do anything for your campaign?"

"What are you asking?"

"When I did a search on the name I came up with a notorious small. I don't want that kind of help on the campaign."

"Good."

"Why would a criminal be–"

"Chelsea Dagger is not wanted for any crimes. The ZPD does a poor job of investigating small on small violence, and while rumor has it she has committed a lot of nasty crimes there have been no charges."

The lioness looked puzzled, "But… If the police force expands to include smalls…"

"She, in theory, could be a prime candidate for prosecution. One of the reasons we had to promise the so-call Rodentia Business Bureau a clean slate if their police force gears up. We can't pursue past crimes or they would not have signed on."

"But if she's engaged in criminal activity why in the Hell would she be trying to get you in as mayor?"

"Get's even weirder. Technically she doesn't care if I'm mayor or not. She's trying to get a police force for smalls – and figures I'm the horse in the race mostly likely to deliver – if I win."

"If you don't start making sense I'm stopping the car and will hurt you."

"Someone hired her. I have theories about who, and what that animal or those animals might want, but I have no evidence. I do know she wouldn't work cheap so she's been offered something big. And rumor is she will do anything to get what she wants. I don't know how to get in touch with her. She told me that much and said if I needed to contact her Doc Wheeler has her number."

"Wheeler? He seems pretty straight arrow."

"He is. But the police force for smalls means a lot to him. He was willing to bushwhack a friend and force me into a run for mayor. If he had the money he might have hired Chelsea, but he's not rich. Anyway, I heard he has her number."

"She left it for me too. I don't plan to call her, and think I'll delete her name and number from the list of potential volunteers."

* * *

Judy was beside him for a well-attended rally of shorts in the evening. To Nick's surprise Ernie was there. "Doctor Wheeler asked me to say how you encouraged me to join the police academy," the weasel explained.

Ernie was too nervous in front of a crowd to do more than speak briefly. The weasel came off as innocent and eager, an accurate reflection of his character, and grateful to Nick for not stereotyping weasels and encouraging him to try and join the police force. The weasel then spent much of the rally being asked about his relationship with Judy's sister. Ernie stuck with the script of friends from high school and leaving out the details of his crush on Susan.

Mirage spoke again, and did an impromptu fund-raiser – auctioning games of pool. She promised to play, and lose to, the three highest bidders, so they could claim to have beaten the best short pool player in the world.

The cat also got into a conversation with Judy in front of the crowd, "I talked with Nick this afternoon – he said you were once jealous of me."

"He what!" the rabbit flushed.

"Don't worry about it," Mirage assured her. "He's was trying to change the topic of conversation. I asked when you two were getting married. You want to try answering the question, or will you try and change the subject too?"

"I, um..."

"You are planning to get married at some point, I assume."

"Well, he said it would look like he was just trying for respectability if we got married during the campaign."

"And you fell for that line? He'll be running for mayor forever."

"Well, I told him that if he gets elected he has to marry me, it would look bad if the mayor was, um..."

"Fooling around?" Mirage looked out at the gathering, "You heard it here. Vote for Nick and he has to marry the rabbit!"

Nick had not planned a speech, but offered to take some questions. One about his family brought out the story of his father, and his inability to get a loan to start a business. "Was it because he had a poor business plan? That was what they told him. And there are poor business plans. But there are species who have more trouble getting loans – regardless of what kind of plans or abilities they have. I thought my father was... Well, he wasn't the same afterward I... I sometimes blame what happened to him for how I turned out. If the system wouldn't treat a fox fairly then I'd be as shifty as they thought foxes were. I shouldn't use that as an excuse. I made some poor choices for myself. But I wonder what life might have been like if. I know I don't want any animal in Zootopia to have that feeling I experienced, to think there was no hope of fair treatment in the city."

Judy moved over and put an arm around him. He smiled and put an arm around her. She suddenly grabbed his shirt and pulled his head down to give him a kiss. Cameras flashed.

* * *

It wasn't clear which was more controversial on Sunday, the picture of Judy and Nick kissing or Doc Wheeler's comments on large male privilege. The picture, on the front of many newspapers, caused one hundred and thirty-seven subscription cancellations to Zootopia papers. The hamster's assertion of large male privilege was denied by males at large breakfast tables across Zootopia. "There is no advantage," males insisted. "We work hard and deserve everything we get. We earn it!" More than one wife asked, "Could you explain why females doing exactly the same job are usually paid less?" The claim had a less skeptical reception in short and small homes.

Vaugn Wheeler and Elsa Adamson took on the Sunday morning talk show circuit, enabling Nick to relax for much of the day after a busy Saturday. Sunday evening the fox appeared on ZNN in an interview with brown bear Wally Ballou.

"I heard," the bear claimed, "that a lot of your later hustles were perpetrated against smalls. Is that true? And if it is true, doesn't that make you an unusual candidate to pitch the importance of adding a police force for smalls?"

Nick admitted, "It is true that smalls were often victims of my... I'm not sure if they can be called scams. I obtained permits and other documents. But I certainly skirted the law. And smalls were my targets because they didn't have the same access to the police as other citizens of Zootopia. They didn't believe the police could help them – the force simply wasn't equipped to gather evidence or pursue small suspects except in some rare and spectacular cases. So it was safer to aim hustles at smalls."

"You're saying the police department isn't fair?"

"I don't think I used the word fair. I said the police department is not equipped to handle crimes against smalls. Large animals know they can call on the police for help, and the police will respond and do their best to help. The police were historically geared for helping the large animals of Zootopia. Even after the rights of shorts became more important the force remained dominated by large officers. I give Mayor Lionheart credit for his efforts to expand the department and include more shorts. But I believe now is the time to extend the same protections to the small community, and it can only happen with small officers."

"The Commissioner advocated special units of smalls."

"Special units which were intended to help against short and large suspects in things like hostage situations or where there was a need for crime scene investigation. I was part of the Task Force drawing up the initial proposal. And as we worked on our proposal we realized it wasn't enough just to recruit smalls for special units. The small community itself deserved a police force they could trust and call on for help, confident that crimes against them would be taken seriously."

"Another issue, besides your past, in this unprecedented recall attempt against a popular mayor is – I need to warn viewers that some may find the next image disturbing or even offensive – is the fact you are in an interspecies relationship." The image of Judy kissing Nick the night before filled the screen behind Ballou.

Nick shrugged, "It shouldn't matter."

"Do you think it will cost you votes? Honest opinion."

"It will. But it wasn't like we planned to fall in love or offend people. I'm certainly not what her parents were hoping for when they sent her off to Zootopia with a little spray can of fox repellent, and I–"

"She had a can of fox repellent when she arrived in Zootopia?"

"Yep. And I had no interest in falling in love with a rabbit. But there was a chemistry there I couldn't deny even though I tried. We're both adults, both single, and I believe in those circumstances a couple should be free to choose who they want to love."

There was more conversation, and a commercial break. Two major sponsors for the program were the Monongahela Metal Foundry –"Casting steel ingots with the housewife in mind," and Einbinder Flypaper.

Following the break Wally Ballou began, "– in the studio with Detective Nick Wilde, candidate for mayor in his uphill battle in the recall effort against Mayor Lionheart. Before the break I asked him about a couple issues that look like hurdles for him. His running mate is a small, Doctor Vaughn Wheeler, a forensics pathologist for the ZPD. Doctor Wheeler has been outspoken with his claim of large male privilege." The studio ran a tape of Wheeler speaking on Saturday. After the sound byte Wally Ballou looked at Nick, "And I think you might stand with your running mate on his claim, I have a clip from a different rally where you spoke."

The clip was Nick telling of his father's inability to get a loan to start a business.

At the end of the clip the bear turned to Nick, "Sorry about your father. But loans are not guaranteed to anyone who comes in. You were young, and probably not able to evaluate the strength or weakness of what he showed the bankers. You admitted that when you spoke. And yet, the implication of what you said, you sound like you were relating that to the claim of large male privilege. I can point to the fact your running mate has a prestigious position, the top paid performer in Zootopia is female, the assistant mayor is female, almost one-third of–"

"The claim of large male privilege doesn't say all large males will succeed, nor does it mean a small, short, or female can't succeed. It doesn't claim large males don't work hard. It is a claim that there is a preference for large males in positions of importance. Do I need to mention all the discrimination cases that have been won in the courts by females who were denied tenure at universities, or shorts who never got raises or promotions in the work place while larges who were brought in later – and trained by the short – were given preferential treatment? I assume you follow the news."

"Well, yes. But in an individual case like–"

"Like a loan application being rejected?"

"Exactly. How can you assert if size discrimination took place?"

"There are individual cases where it is pretty blatant. There are specific cases where the business model was obviously flawed. Between those you have the cases where it isn't obvious. So you look at patterns. Shorts are twelve percent less likely to get a loan than a large male. Smalls forty-seven per cent less likely – no wonder they started their own savings and loans. And interest rates are different. Shorts, on average are charged four points higher on loans, smalls nine percent."

"I've heard that small default rates on loans is higher than the default rates for large species."

"Anyone ask if the fact they're being charged more than double the rate of larges may be a contributing factor?"

"I… I, uh, don't know. Where did you get those figures?"

"Data Doc Wheeler put together for me. He thought you might bring it up."

"In your first press conference you claimed small friends pressured you to run. I'm guessing he was one of them."

"He was."

"They sometimes say a politician needs a fire in his belly to run. Sounds like you don't have much of a fire in your belly."

"Let me offer one correction to your comment. There are women in politics too, and we need more."

"My question was more why Vaughn Wheeler didn't run for mayor himself rather than using you as a surrogate?"

"You asked for an honest opinion from me earlier, I want one from you now."

"Certainly."

"Do you honestly think a small running for mayor would be taken seriously, or would have any chance of being elected?"

"I… Uh…" the bear fidgeted. "It shouldn't–"

"You wouldn't allow me to use should. Yes or no, were a vote held this week is there any way a small could possibly be elected mayor of Zootopia?"

Ballou looked to the clock, wondering if he could stall until commercial break. There were eight seconds of silence. Eight seconds of silence is an eternity in live television. "No," he admitted.

* * *

The mayor spent the weekend campaigning to predominately audiences of large animals. Wilma Deering and S. Quentin Quale recognized the importance to radio and television stations aimed at the short and small communities and did appearances and interviews there.

Nick could not remember ever feeling so happy bout arriving for work on Monday morning. He didn't care what work he and Judy were assigned, at least he would be out of the public spotlight.

Wednesday's poll figures showed Nick within eight percentage points of the mayor.

"Among large males, you have more than a ninety percent lead. The majority of large females are on your side too, but the percentage isn't as high," Quale explained. "Among animals thinking interspecies relationships are wrong you're also leading by more than ninety percent."

"But I don't think that's a good issue to bring up," warned Deering.

"She's right," Quale agreed. "It tends to be older voters who see it as an issue. Younger voters don't care as much, and may even support it. You already have those who are against it voting for you, and risk alienating younger voters if you bring it up. Smalls don't usually turn out to vote in high numbers, but if this election gets them excited they will be a significant factor."

"Why have I not seen or heard any ads attacking Wilde?" the Mayor demanded.

"Ah, well... It's like this. Remember the ads attacking you how you handled the Night Howler Crisis, the ones where animals you'd detained were interviewed?"

"I remember them very well."

"Adamson, Wilde's campaign director, was the one who produced them. She's made a couple more – sent me copies on a DVD along with a note."

"What did the note say?"

"It said Wilde didn't want her to air them. Said Wilde wouldn't approve them, he wants things clean and to keep a high image of the office of mayor. She said she isn't that nice, and warned of retaliation if your campaign attacks. She says that if she starts seeing official ads attacking Wilde she will run them – even if he says no."

"So, do we run our ads attacking him or not?"

"Her commercials lost you votes last election. I would advise against running ours officially. We've got two other choices, one is to run them, but present them as from some special interest group not directly associated with the campaign–"

"Bad idea," was the opinion of Wilma Deering. "If it comes out that the Mayor is behind them and is trying to hide the fact he will really look bad – and it would come out."

"She's right," the Mayor agreed. "What is the other choice?"

"Wilde keeps saying you're doing a great job as Mayor except in one area. You can even run clips of him saying that in your ads. Your record is very good – Hell, thank him for seeing it. And explain why you didn't accept the proposal for a small police department. Put it in economic terms. No one understands economic terms, but money talks. And he talks about equal rights for all, the implication some voters have is that you only pay attention to large males. Emphasize what you've done for females and shorts… Smalls too if you can think of anything."

"Good idea," Lionheart agreed. He turned to the Assistant Mayor, "Deering, how am I doing on civil rights?"

"Your record on females is pretty good – your last two Assistant Mayors… But let's not mention Bellweather by name. On department heads you've got same number of females, but slightly more shorts than the previous administration. I think the recruitment of more shorts into the police department is a solid accomplishment… Or does that underline his complaint that you should be expanding to serve the smalls too?"

She and the Mayor looked at the campaign manager, who shrugged. "I think we hit shorts as positive – maybe even mentions small issue as not wanting to attempt too much too fast."

"No," Lionheart told him. "Makes me sound too cautious. I'll get Bash to clarify why smalls are a bad idea."

* * *

"I am so looking forward to the weekend," Nick groaned as he and Judy returned to the First on Thursday. "Please tell me that Acles is not enough of a sadist to send us out again today."

Judy checked the time on her phone, "It's not that late. And remember, last weekend was all rallies and meetings. You were happy to come into work on Monday."

"Judy?"

"Yes?"

"If I try and jump in front of a bus, please don't stop me."

"It's just a few more weeks. Then life is back to normal."

"What if I'm elected?"

"Maybe the Police Department will assign me to guard you."

"And who's going to guard you from me," Nick leered.

"We're still on duty. But keep those dirty thoughts in your head for a couple more hours and maybe we can do something about them after pizza."

"Or before pizza?"

"We'll see."

Ben Clawhauser directed them to report to the Captain immediately.

"You jinxed us," the fox complained.

"Me? You're the one who said there wasn't time – that's asking for trouble."

"Sit down," the moose sighed and gestured to two chairs. He tapped his hoof nervously on the desk top, wondering where to start. "Bad news. I think it's bad news... I didn't like you two making detective so fast, you especially," he commented – looking at Nick. "You're both too inexperienced. But you've both worked hard and done well." He gave a half-smile and looked at Nick again, "Sometimes I even appreciate your sense of humor."

"Emphasis on sometimes?"

"Strong emphasis on the sometimes. Can I call you Nick?"

"I, uh, think we would both be very uncomfortable with that."

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, point is, whether you were promoted too fast or not, you've earned your place here. What I'm about to tell you was not my decision, and I think it's wrong."

Judy and Nick glanced at each other, this was not going to be pleasant.

"Orders came down," Acles told Nick. "You are no longer detective, you are regular officer. And you're out of the First. The Sahara Station has been requesting short officers and you've been reassigned. Tomorrow morning you will report at the Sahara Station at oh-seven-hundred."

"That isn't fair!" Judy protested.

"It is not my decision," snapped Acles. "Look, I'm having the Police Union file a grievance – but I have to follow orders."

"The grievance process?" Nick asked.

"Takes too long," the moose admitted. "I think you should win, but it takes time. Most of the officers and detectives here… Hell, I think there are officers at other precincts who'll testify on your behalf. But it's not fast. My guess is you can't get restored until the election is over."

"Just me, and not Judy, right?"

"Correct. The orders came down that your promotion was a mistake, you were too much of a rookie to have moved up in the ranks so fast."

"The Sahara Station?"

"Again, it wasn't my idea. They want some short officers, say they need them for the Sahel."

"Could you explain Sahel, for someone unfamiliar with what you're talking about?"

"I'm a moose. I can explain Tundra. Sahara Station is desert eco-system... You know Serengeti?"

"Plains way south of Sahara, where the lions and antelope play?"

"Well, Sahel is transition zone in between. Serengeti isn't part of Zootopia... Sahel is, well, it isn't part of the city proper – but it's ours to police. I hear there's almost no crime – but supposedly it's the most boring assignment in the ZPD."

Nick looked at Judy, "Think he'd object if I kissed him?"

"I would object," Judy warned.

Acles demanded, "Did he go crazy?"

"He doesn't like all the fuss of campaigning, and apparently boring sounds good."

The moose sighed, wondering if the fox had lost his mind. "Not my idea. I'm filing grievance with the union. Get out of here."

After they left his office Judy vented her indignation, "That's… That's so… It's unfair! It's wrong! It's… I don't even have words for it!"

"Want to share a pizza?"

"How can you even think about food after– Was it the Mayor or the Commissioner? Maybe it was both."

"I'm not thinking about food."

"Then why did you… Oh... How can you even think about..."

"Think about making love with you? It has been an amazingly crappy week and I need to find my happy place. And my happy place is in my apartment, and you're in it – not wearing anything but a smile."

"But it's so unfair!"

"That I want to make love to you?"

"Don't you care that you've been... been..."

"Screwed? Of course I care. But I don't know what I can do about it this minute. However, I know this very upset rabbit, and I think she needs something to get her mind off my reassignment."

Judy smiled, "So it's all for my benefit? You won't enjoy it at all?"

"I am remarkably unselfish."

"You are something, but unselfish was not the word I was thinking. Why don't we get takeout and go back to your place? Maybe you can help me find my happy place while we look for yours."

* * *

The next morning Nick dressed with extra care, to create a good first impression. The extra time getting dressed only made him five minutes late. The Sahara Station was a ramshackle structure, and almost empty when Nick entered. A dromedary in a dirty khaki uniform was filling a large mug with coffee as the fox arrived. The dromedary stared at Nick, took a sip of coffee, and stared again. "Who the hell are you?"

"Nick Wilde, I was told to report here. Where's the captain?"

"That's me. You're early."

Nick looked at the clock. The dromedary didn't sound like he was being sarcastic. "I was told oh-seven-hundred."

"Oh... You said your name was Nick?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Call me Ahmed. Around here seven o'clock is usually around seven-thirty. It definitely means sometime before eight. Unless we're responding to a call we don't worry too much about being on time... Oh, that's just for coming in. Don't try to cover coming in an hour late by leaving an hour early. What are you wearing?"

"A police uniform."

"Not here… Well, I guess they wouldn't have a Sahara uniform for you."

"No."

"We'll try and scrounge something up for... Where's your kit?"

"My kit?"

"Your ditty bag. They were supposed to tell you that you're on Sahel duty – or as some call it, 'Saw-Hell' duty."

"It was mentioned, my captain didn't know what it meant."

"It means that, for the next three weeks you're stationed in the White Castle. Theoretically you're on duty twenty-four seven for the whole period. You then come back here and have two weeks off-duty. You then have a forty hour week out of this station, and then you're back to the White House for another three weeks."

"White Castle? White House?"

"Same place. Or White Palace, White Fort. Oldest city in the world, maybe. Goes back before the peace. If you want to see how much boredom you can tolerate listen to animals argue over the best translation of the old name."

"Three weeks?"

"Yeah, why you need to pack... Apothecary a block east. Toothbrush, toothpaste, any other necessities. Got a cash machine, take out a wad – they don't take credit cards in the White Castle markets. There are cash machines there, but the transaction fees will kill you. I'll try and find some uniforms small enough for you, and a duffle bag."

When Nick returned the captain had a duffle ready for him. There was another dromedary camel there as well who introduced himself as, "Jamal. Call me Joe. You're the officer who's taking me off Sahel?"

"So they tell me. I'm Nick."

"Good to meet you. Welcome to the Camel Corps. Oh, don't suppose you brought any books?"

"No."

"There're some around the station. I'll be with you this shift to show you the ropes. In six weeks you're on your own. Throw your gear in the sand wagon, we leave at eight... Nick... Isn't the name of the fox running against the mayor Nick?"

"I believe so."

"He'll get creamed in the election."

"You think so?"

"They'll never elect anyone but a large in Zootopia – not for mayor anyway."

Leaving at eight actually meant leaving shorty after nine by the time various boxes and petrol cans were loaded into the truck.

"Hmmm... We may have to strap blocks or something to the brake and accelerator pedals to get you driving this beast," Joe warned as they headed out.

"We've got three weeks to figure it out."

"Yeah, Zootopia wasn't built in a day. What'ya know about Sahel shift?"

"Pretty much nothing, even about the Sahel district.

"A lot of sand in Sahel. Mostly we visit the oases, see if there's mail to pick up, and we deliver any packages from family that moved out," Joe jerked his head to the back of the truck as a reminder of the parcels they had loaded. "Not all sand, more fertile down close to Serengeti, but drought happens – so all agriculture is low moisture. White House is our headquarters. Hit about four or five oases a day, supposed to get to them all at least once a week. Can take between five and nine hours depending on how long we want to palaver with the local sheiks. Technically we're on duty twenty-four/seven if something comes up. It almost never does. Occasional emergency medical evac is the excitement. Not much to do in White House... At least for a camel. There's a bar for shorts, Rick's Zootopian Cafe."

"I'm assuming I bunk at the White Castle station house?"

"Right."

There was idle conversation as the long drive continued. Three hours into the trip they met another sand wagon headed back to the Sahara Station. Joe waved at the driver, who returned the wave. "He's glad his shift is over. We're around half-way there."

A couple hours later – "Welcome to your home for the next three weeks," the camel told Nick, gesturing to the walled city that appeared as they crested a dune.

"Not much of a palace. And not very white."

"Palace, castle, house, fort… Whatever. They whitewash the walls every now and then. After a couple sandstorms it goes back to off-white."

"And those walls are more than five thousand years old?"

"Well, not those walls. Not sure when the first walls were built – they've been gone centuries. The place was just smalls at first. After the great peace… There're lions living here now in the large quarter of the city. Walls are protection from the sand storms rather than predators."

Nick pulled out his cell phone, "Better call Judy and let her know she won't be seeing me for awhile."

"Judy? Your vixen?"

Nick hesitated, "Yeah."

"Oh, took you a minute to answer. She someone else's vixen too? Got good news and bad news for you, my new friend."

"Good news and bad news?"

"The good news is that no jealous husband is going to come looking for you here. The bad news is, no cell service."

"No cell service?"

"Nope, that thing is now only good for playing solitaire and for playing music – if you have solitaire and music on it."

* * *

Ancient readers might notice three nods to Bob and Ray in this chapter.


	7. They'll Pinch Themselves

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse seven of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **They'll Pinch Themselves  
**

Nick pulled out his cell phone as the walled city where he'd be headquartered for three weeks came into view, "Better call Judy and let her know she won't be seeing me for awhile."

"Got bad news for you, my new friend."

"Bad news?"

"No cell service."

"No cell service?"

"Nope, that thing is now only good for playing solitaire and for playing music – if you have solitaire and music on it."

"But how do we contact anyone if we need help?"

"Satellite telephone. Theory is that we use it for official business only. Practice is nobody notices a couple short personal calls a day. Behind my seat. You know how to use one?"

"No."

"I'll show you how after we get the truck unloaded."

"Could you show me as soon as we get there?"

"Well, Nick, it works like this. I figure I promise to show you after we unload the truck and it provides an incentive for you to unload faster, and I'm in hammock taking a nap that much sooner."

"No oases visits today?"

"I didn't see anything marked 'Urgent' when we loaded. We'll look a little harder when we unload. Try to limit your call to ten minutes. Fifteen tops. Twenty and someone notices and gets pissed."

"So there's some kind of record of a call being made?"

"Oh... Record of calls made, but they normally don't monitor content. Some brief calls, no one fusses. Ahmed is usually pretty laid back, but long calls will get you in hot water… Well, hot sand. Not much water down here… No long showers in the next three weeks."

No urgent packages were found in unloading. "Leave the phone by me when you're done," Joe instructed. "Theory is, we're on duty twenty-four seven. I get a call every three or four months and it may be time for another."

"Isn't it a little early for sacking out?"

"Never too early to sleep. I bank it, and party for the two weeks after I get home. Explore the station house. Eat anything you find in the kitchen and save money. MRE rations. We brought more. You want something better find the market and pay to eat – we had a couple officers thought they should eat for free."

"I won't make that mistake."

"Good... I can't think of anything else to tell you."

"What time do we go out tomorrow?"

"You're dedicated... Not sure if that's good or annoying. Maybe both. How does eight sound to you?"

"Perfect."

"Good. We'll get along," the camel told Nick before heading to his hammock.

* * *

Judy did not answer her phone. She had not been answering her phone since the failed proposal unless she recognized the caller – and the satellite phone was unknown to her. He had forgotten that when he attempted the call. At least his cell phone provided him contact information even if he had no service. He ruled out Susan for the same reason. Judy had once suggested he put her parents' number on his phone – it had seemed like more commitment than he was ready for at the time and he didn't have it. Would Judy recognize Doc Wheeler's number? He scrolled through his numbers a second time. _"Not my first choice,"_ he thought, _"but probably my best bet."_

"First Precinct."

"Ben? Nick here and–"

"Nick? How you doing? Judy said she tried calling you, but she couldn't reach you. Hey, this isn't your regular number… The number showing up looks weird to me. Are you okay? We're all–"

"Look, I need to get a message to Judy, okay?"

"Sure. No problem. I'd do anything for you two. Hey, what that… that pool player said about you and Judy getting married–"

"I can't talk long. Concentrate, I need to leave a message."

"No problem. I'll just… That pen isn't working. Let me… I'm ready."

"I'm out of town for three weeks. I–"

"Three weeks? What–"

"Sahel duty is three weeks in some old city with a funny name. She can get details if she calls the Sahara Station. I'll have two weeks off when I get back. Write this number down, but I don't know about taking incoming calls. It's official ZPD phone and I'm not supposed to talk long. I'll try to give her a fast call later today if–"

"Why did you call me instead of her?"

"She didn't answer her phone. She–"

"I hope she isn't hurt! I should call the hospital and–"

"She is currently not answering her phone unless she recognizes the number. She doesn't know this one. I got to go. Tell her I love her."

"Sure thing, I'll–"

"Bye," Nick hung up.

The fox spent a couple minutes looking around his temporary home. Joe snored in a hammock in the room apparently used by on duty officers. It was not a sizeable room, and the camel snored. A store room was a perfect size for Nick, but had no ventilation. There were two large-size holding cells and two short-sized holding cells. If cells for smalls existed he didn't see them immediately, and it didn't matter. There was a layer of sandy grit on the bunks in the cells, but they appeared little used. He shook the sand off the bedding in a short-sized cell and decided to claim it as his own. He dumped the contents of the duffle onto the bunk. The khaki uniforms didn't fit well, clearly meant for a larger animal. He wished he had his mother or father's skill with needle and thread, the best he could manage was restoring a button. He looked at his regular uniform pants and shirt and hesitated for a moment, then remembered he had never been told he had to wear the olive drab. Pants were pants, and the insignia of the First had been removed from the shirt.

The exotic sights and smells as he wandered the narrow, ancient streets were intoxicating. He wondered why the animals he met stared at him, and then realized that the odors and twisting paths were normal to them, and a fox was a strange and exotic animal. He wished Judy were beside him and they could explore the maze together. Finding the market proved easy. He wasn't sure of his ability to find his way back to the police station at the edge of the large quarter.

The market was huge, a broad lane ran from a major gate to a tiny fountain at the city center. The lane was broad, but certainly not empty. Carts and rickety stalls, and even vendors claiming a piece of open ground to put out a carpet and display their wares crowded the lane. More substantial shops lined the sides, many selling prepared food. Fresh and dried fruits and vegetables, and spices Nick had never smelled before were sold by the vendors in the lane.

Shorts dominated the market, although a few stalls and shops catered to lions and camels. Most of the animals were meerkats and zorillas. Most males, large and short, wore a simple white garment. It appeared to be a long shirt, hanging down almost to the ankles. Headcoverings varied. Nick wondered if the styles indicated anything about the tribe of the animal wearing them. The cloaks and scarves of the female zorillas were colorful. The female meerkats wore more subdued tones on their tunics – shades of gray and brown – but also sported colorful head scarves.

As the fox strolled through the market he noticed the small side streets which branched off. Each seemed devoted to a particular merchandise – a street of potters, a street of carpet makers, copper and tin smiths, tailors... Nick resolved to bring his khaki uniforms in for alteration so they would fit better. And he grinned and resolved to try and find his mother a proper copper coffee pot before he left, remembering a song she used to sing to him and his sister.

On the next street he discovered gold and silversmiths, and once again wished Judy were with him. He looked around one shop, wondering if he might find a gift for the bunny. A ring with an intricate design caught his eye and he examined it more closely.

"The perfect ring for your female," the old zorilla commented.

"Yes... How did you know?"

"You don't recognize... Ah, you are a stranger."

"Yes. So there's something special about this ring?"

"The design. You can find it on other items as well. It is a pledge of enduring love. What size ring do you need? You find no better price in any shop on the street."

"I, uh, don't know what size ring–"

"Bring her in."

Nick returned to the crowded central lane of the market. He suspected that if he followed the side streets away from the market he would come to the homes of the craftsmen selling goods, but he had no interest in the residential district. The strange fruits and vegetables fascinated him. A meerkat stood by a pile of slightly odd tomatoes, hawking them to passersby. The meerkat was especially animated in his gestures, and adept in haggling as Nick watched kilos of the odd tomatoes went from prices between two and five credits.

"A credit and a half for a kilo," Nick called when the vendor was not busy with a customer.

"Ha, six credits."

"One cred, seventy-five."

"You are clearly a stranger here, so you don't recognize their value. But, since you are a stranger, I will give you a generous introductory price, five credits."

"Two creds."

"There are limits to my generosity, stranger. I will forgive your insults. Four fifty."

"I heard you sell them for two creds."

"Your ears are dull. It was three. And that was the family price. You are not family."

"She was a zorilla."

"And now you insult my cousin's choice of female? For that I will raise the price."

"Serious question," Nick asked. "I can't understand why people are buying tomatoes by the kilo. Are they good for sauce?"

The meerkat gave him a puzzled look. "Tomatoes?"

"Those things you're selling... You don't call them tomatoes here?"

"You really are a stranger," the meerkat sighed and tossed one to Nick, who gave it a sniff. "Bite it."

"What–"

"Eat it."

Sweet juice filled Nick's mouth as bit into the fruit. His eyes opened in surprise.

"Persimmons," the laughing vendor explained. "Now, give me your market cloth and three creds for a kilo."

"Market cloth?"

"How do you expect to take... You really are a stranger."

"Just got here."

"Timon," the meerkat said by way of introduction. He pointed to several shoppers around the market. "Market cloths." They carried squares of cloth, like large handkerchiefs, although they appeared to come in different sizes. Purchases were put in the center of a cloth, the corners tied together, and it became a shopping bag. "Fabric sellers are two streets in that direction, on the left. Tell the zorilla in the shop with the red awning that Timon sent you. She'll give you her best price on a full set. Do you need a place to lay your head tonight? I can tell you the places to ask – and where you should not ask for lodging."

"I'll be sleeping in a cell at the police station," Nick told him. He laughed at the meerkat's response to the claim. "The door will be open, I'm a police officer."

"You are the oddest camel I've ever seen. Do you have a name, Mister Odd Camel?"

"Nick, and I'm a fox."

Forty minutes later, with his market cloth weighted down with half a kilo of persimmons, Nick found his way to the bar he had been warned about. It took Nick's eyes a moment to adjust to the shade after stepping in from the outdoor sun. He heard a voice, "Ah, a stranger in a strange land," and became aware of a middle-aged zorilla sitting at a bar. "Welcome to my humble establishment. You are an unfamiliar face."

"Just arrived in town. You're Rick?"

"If you want me to be. The name came with the place when I bought it and I didn't want to change the history or letterhead on the stationary."

"Understood. There were a couple times in my own life when I was Rick, I found it expedient."

"Ah, if you have felt a need to change your name and move here for your health the white house is an excellent location."

"I hear the waters are very good."

"They are indeed, I answer dryly. But, on a serious note, it is a town in which one may lose himself quite easily. The local gendarme is a camel, and never puts his nose in here. We have a range of drinks–" he turned and made a sweeping gesture at the bar, "both local and imported. Should you feel lucky there are games of chance and skill in the back."

"Before you say more, perhaps I should tell you, I'm a gendarme."

"You're not a camel."

"I had not noticed, I answer. But seriously, we're now an equal opportunity police department."

"I was, um, just kidding about the gambling, I swear nervously."

"Sure… Look, I really don't care – as long as the house isn't cheating."

The zorilla drew himself up proudly, "It is a poor house that needs to cheat in order to profit."

"Exactly, so as long as everyone's happy… Just keep it quiet."

"Of course… And, should you want to check out the honesty of the games I will give you money to play with. If you lose it goes back to me. Should you win, you are free to keep the difference."

"No thanks, that sounds vaguely like a bribe."

"Am I losing my touch? Of course it was a bribe."

"Don't want it. As long as you keep things quiet I'm fine. Should I ever choose to play I'll use my money… Any chance of Hold 'Em with a low stakes buy-in?"

"A couple times a week… Although you need to tell me your idea of low buy-in. Private parties, but I can introduce you, if you wish."

"No hurry. I'm just telling you my game for sometime in the future."

"If I can't offer you a bribe, may I offer you a drink?"

"I think that could be viewed as local hospitality. Thanks. You said local stuff?"

"Various local brews. You might like the bitter fizz."

"Bitter fizz?"

"Date wine is distilled to alcohol, and lions age it with lemon slices – but no sugar. A shot of bitter lemon, a spoonful of date sugar, and fill a tall glass with seltzer."

"Ice?"

"Not here. The solar panels let us store enough power to run the lights and a cooler, but not enough for a freezer."

"No problem. Oh, Rick? What's your actual name?"

"Louis, and your actual name, Rick?"

"Nick."

The zorilla tending bar had heard the offer and prepared the bitter lemon fizz, and refilled the boss's glass. The two animals sat on bar stools and Nick raised his glass for a toast, "Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. May I never visit within my official duties."

"May I see your face only when it brings me profit. Tell me, are you an additional officer? Will there be two here? Will something different happen with the camels?"

Nick shrugged, "I may be taking over from the camel who brought me. Do you know Joe?"

"By face and name only, he is seldom seen around the city."

"He's a fan of sleeping. How old is this place?"

"I'm not sure. The original Rick owned it almost a century ago, for some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I've no desire to be disloyal it has been run by a Rick ever since."

"The drink is good. How's the food?"

"Because you are my friend I will tell you the truth. Don't eat here if you have a choice. The food is better in the market. Good chefs are hard to find."

Nick noticed an old piano to one side of the dining area, beside a large set of shelves piled high with what he suspected was sheet music. "Is there entertainment? Does the piano work?"

"I fear it is more of a squatter in my establishment than an employee. It is an old piano, but in good repair. The original Rick had a talented pianist named Sam… And as all proprietors are named Rick so is each pianist named Sam… It just makes things easier for the old drunks when they need to request a song. Our last pianist keeps the instrument in repair and tune, but his arthritis is so bad he no longer plays."

"Is that sheet music?"

"Yes."

"How old?"

"I've really paid no attention. My Rickhood is somewhat recent."

"May I look at it?"

"Certainly. Do you play?"

Nick hesitated, "Not really. Several years of lessons when I was young."

"You should have kept it up."

"Story behind that… Two stories behind that."

"And both are true, of course. You can't manage a third?"

"I could if you gave me a minute. The lessons were given by a friend of my mother. When my father died money became tight, and while the friend might have given them to me for free, my mother was too proud for charity."

"I am sorry for your father."

"And the other story is that my teacher told me that, if I worked hard, I would become a good piano player – but not a great piano player. I, of course, became discouraged. I wanted to be the greatest piano player ever. But I did not want to work hard."

"If you want to play the instrument you are welcome."

"I doubt anyone would want to listen."

"Play for yourself. Let me hear you."

They walked to the piano and Nick began thumbing through the music, "Wow! Oh… This is… This is a time capsule. I collect old records - seventy-eights. That means the record–"

"I know what it means."

"Sorry. There is so much here I recognize. There are classics here."

"Try something."

The fox sat down on the bench and apologized, "Been years since I was at the keys, and I wasn't a great player."

"Just try something."

The zorilla listened attentively. "I think customers would like you. Feel free to play anytime. We start getting customers as the markets close and are busy by dusk."

"I'm not ready to play for an audience."

"You are welcome to come by any time and practice. Perhaps if you get your confidence up you might try."

"Perhaps," the fox agreed.

* * *

Judy had partnered with Gannon that day, since his partner was on vacation. Gannon was a careful and methodical plodder. His patience insured he would always solve a crime eventually – as long as it required no imagination. If the criminal showed any creativity Gannon was out of his element. Fortunately most criminals had even less imagination than the detective. Neither was his sense of humor well developed. Gannon was a dedicated, honest, hard working detective, and a bit of a bore. The pair returned to the First after dropping off evidence gathered at a murder scene at the crime lab.

Ben Clawhauser waved frantically as they entered, "Judy! Message from Nick!"

The rabbit ran to his desk, "Really? I've tried to call, he didn't– He called you and not me?"

"He said he tried to call you, you didn't– Something about no cell coverage. It was a weird number he called from–"

"Did you copy down the number?"

"Sure." He slid the piece of paper with the number to her and she put it into her phone."

"He, uh, said it was some official police phone or something. He wasn't sure if he should take incoming calls. He'll call you back when he can."

Judy hesitated, she wanted to call. But if it was official police phone maybe she should wait until he had a good time to call her. "What else did he say?"

"He's at some place called Say-something for–"

"Sahel, he's in the Sahel district."

"He said he'll be there for three weeks."

"Three weeks?"

"It's what he said. He said call the Sahara Station and they can give you details."

"Three weeks? I'm calling Sahara Station. Did he say anything else?"

"He said he loved you."

Although details were scant Clawhauser texted them to a few of Nick's friends at the First – he had learned to not send texts out to everyone. It was an excellent statement of the facts as known, he didn't make guesses, suggestions, or amplifications. It was the classic, 'Just the facts, Ma'am'. Some of those who received the texts wondered if Ben was covering up details to keep them from worrying about Nick. What would be so bad the cheetah would be afraid to include it? And when they told colleagues where Nick had been sent their guesses and assumptions were sometimes added. And the additions were sometimes embroidered further in later retellings. In the more extreme versions Nick was chained in a dark cell and only allowed bread and water until after the election.

The news media did not repeat the wild rumors, but did report that mayoral candidate Nick Wilde had been sent to the ends of Zootopia territory for a three week tour of duty. Even the truth was enough to provoke broad outrage against the Mayor. Lionheart did not like bad press coverage, and did not wait for the polls to tell him how the public had reacted to Nick's exile.

* * *

The top items on the Mayor's agenda the day after the story broke were to have his secretary call a press conference, and to call the Police Commissioner and inform him that he would be speaking at the press conference, and should be prepared to give the public a very good reason for what had happened to Nick.

At ten, with cameras and tape recorders rolling, Bash Mustapha addressed reporters at City Hall. "Officer Nick Wilde has an exemplary record with the First Precinct. His demotion is in no way a reflection of his job performance and should not be interpreted as punishment. His recent high profile activities did cause his paperwork to be reviewed and–"

"Who reviewed it?" a reporter called.

The Commissioner ignored the question, "certain irregularities in his promotion to detective came to light. There are some very specific requirements for promotion to detective. Because of Officer Wilde's work in solving the Night Howler Crisis, for which the city is certainly grateful, he and Officer Hopps received their promotions. Now, since Officer Hopps was a member of the ZPD when she performed her heroic actions they could be considered as a factor in her promotion. While Wilde was no less brave he was not a member of the ZPD at the time, and his actions should not have been taken into consideration."

"So how come he was made detective?"

"His promotion was an error on my part. The city was justifiably grateful for his work, and I did not pay close enough attention to the details at that time. His fellow detectives report he performed his job well at the First, but the Police Department needs to be in the business of keeping its own rules rather than breaking them. For this reason he was reassigned to the appropriate rank."

"And why was he sent into the middle of nowhere?"

"As the ZPD has expanded the number of short officers their value to the Police Force is becoming more obvious. All Precincts have requested the assignment of more shorts. You can verify that fact by calling any precinct in Zootopia. The Sahara Station, informally known a the Camel Corps, interacts with a number of short species and has been requesting a short officer for Sahel duty for months. Rather than assigning a recent graduate of the Police Academy to this unique position I thought a seasoned officer would be more appropriate. Officer Wilde is a fine police officer and will, I am certain, perform his duties with excellence."

"You're telling us that the fact he is running in a recall election against the mayor had nothing to do with his demotion and being sent to the desert?"

"Only in the sense that it brought the irregularities of his promotion to light. It was not a punishment, it was a correction to bring his rank back in line with what it should be. And the Sahel is not a punishment, it is a challenge that required an experienced officer of Wilde's calibre."

"Does seeing the value of short officers mean small officers should be considered?" a reporter could be heard shouting, among the chorus of other questions being hurled at the Commissioner.

In the Mayor's office Lionheart and Deering watched a live broadcast of the press conference.

"Do you believe him?" the lion asked the Assistant Mayor.

She hesitated, then answered, "No. Do you?"

"No. And when he makes a mistake it looks like I make a mistake."

* * *

A camera crew waited outside the First, hoping to get an opinion from an officer. The uniformed officers tended to wave them away with, "No comment. Got work to do."

A female panther leaving the building caught the television reporter's attention and he tried again, "Excuse me, do you work here at the First?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask your name?"

"You just did. My name is Lylah Nyte."

"Ms. Nyte, I'm wondering if you can give a statement about the opinion of officers here at the First on Nick Wilde's reassignment. Do you know Detective Wilde?"

"I've worked with him. He did some of his initial training as a detective with me."

"The claim has been made his promotion was premature. Would you agree with that?"

She hesitated, "When he first got here, that was my opinion too."

"And your current opinion of the Detective?"

Nyte slowly exhaled, "Wilde and I don't always agree. But he is a damn fine officer."

"And when you say you don't always agree?"

She waved it off, "You get along with everyone? Maybe the fact he's a short. Maybe fact he's canid and I'm feline. Nothing important."

"What is the feeling here at the First on his demotion and reassignment?"

"I can't speak for everyone at the First."

"Can you give us your opinion?"

"It looks like undeserved retaliation to me. Early promotion or not, he deserves the rank of Detective and I'm glad we got him here at the First. Busting him and sticking in the desert sounds like an attempt to muzzle him. I look forward to his reinstatement."

* * *

Detective Nyte's comments were played several times in news broadcasts, and went viral on the web, along with details of her own distinguished career as a detective and the firsts she had obtained as a female detective.

The next morning Clawhauser looked worried as Nyte came into the station. "There's fallout over your comments yesterday. Bad fallout."

"Why? I say anything wrong?"

"I don't think you said anything wrong. But you rubbed some big shots the wrong way."

"What can they do to me? It's not like anyone can claim I got promoted too fast."

She learned what could happen ten minutes later in Alces office.

"That's crap!" she shouted. "I did not endorse Wilde for mayor!"

"I never said you did! And don't turn this into a shouting match."

"Why the hell not! You're telling me I've been busted – after all I've done – for telling the truth?"

"You were on duty and–"

"What does that have to do with anything? The rule is that officers, in their official capacity, can not endorse political candidates. Period. It doesn't say we aren't allowed to hold opinions. And I sure as hell didn't endorse Nick."

"I know that! And I've–"

"Filed another fucking grievance? So maybe I'll be back where I belong eventually?"

"No, I've asked the press to come to the First and I am making a statement, saying that I believe you are being treated unfairly and that there was no merit in the accusation against you."

"You're doing that? But, you could get–"

"And every other detective in the First has asked to go on record the same way."

"Every…"

"The Commissioner will have trouble keeping the First open if he demotes us all."

"I, um, wish to apologize for my language and tone earlier. It was inappropriate for your office."

"No problem, under the circumstances."

* * *

The story went out over the media even faster than Nick's assignment to the Sahel, and the response was even more devastating. Mayor Lionheart hoped he had misheard the story on the radio, and called in Assistant Mayor Wilma Deering. She confirmed the story, but he still could not believe it.

"Commissioner Mustapha did what?" Lionheart repeated in disbelief.

"He demoted the highest female detective in Zootopia, and now the entire First is in open rebellion."

"Define open rebellion."

"A captain called a press conference – a captain – and denounced her demotion as unjust. Two other captains joined him. Every other detective at the First has signed on to a statement calling the demotion wrong and retaliation. The news stations are playing Detective Nyte's comments about Wilde almost constantly. She condemned his demotion and being sent away, but she didn't endorse him."

"And she is senior female detective in the ZPD?"

"She is."

"Are they playing the full clip? Could she have possibly said anything else?"

"The camera crew swear it's every second of tape. There is no endorsement."

The lion closed his eyes, and a pained look crossed his face. After a minute he opened his eyes. "This won't go away, will it?"

"No, Sir."

"And waiting a day to see what happens will only make it worse?"

"Probably."

The Mayor sighed, "It doesn't matter who he's married to. Any chance you'll call Bash and tell him I need his resignation within the hour?"

"I think you should make the call."

"I suppose you're right. Call Quale, I need him here stat for how we handle this."

* * *

Deering suggested the resignation of the Commissioner could provide a reason to torpedo the recall campaign. "Now that Commissioner Mustapha is out you could ask the City Council to work towards creation of a police force of smalls. Wilde says it is the only reason he is running"

Lionheart sighed, "No, I can't. First I'm not sure if it is the right time. Maybe I should have read the Task Force report, but the damn thing is so long! And it would look like I flipped my position, caved in to pressure. Voters would rather have a Mayor who's wrong than a Mayor who changes his mind or lets others pressure him into a position, right?"

"Or a Mayor who changes _her_ mind," the Assistant Mayor corrected him. "Sadly, you are right."

"And it would look like I relied on the department heads to do my thinking for me… Any way you look at it, it would look bad, and I don't want to look bad. No, got to stay the course."

Deering looked at the campaign manager, "There must be some positive spin you can put on this."

"I... Of course!" He turned to the Mayor and extended a paw for a congratulatory shake, "Congratulations, Sir, brilliant move! Serving the city is your highest priority, and you demand it of all department heads as well. While you appreciate the loyalty Bash Mustapha had towards you, you felt he had compromised his position by trying to work for your re-election. _Your_ devotion to the city is so great you let him go for letting politics interfere with performing his duty. You come out of this looking better than ever."

"I like it," Lionheart murmured.

"What do we do with Nyte and Wilde?" Deering asked.

"Can't bring them back too fast," S. Quentin Quale muttered, "Would look like caving in."

"It is the Commissioner's job to deal with the issue," the Mayor pointed out. "And we currently are without one. And the position will be left open until after the election. I will recommend that, once the post is filled, Nyte be returned to detective – along with any difference in lost salary... Wilde..."

"He always talks about the value of the ZPD," Deering pointed out. "That's why he didn't take a leave of absence to campaign. So, whether the assignment was retaliation by the ex-Commissioner or not, his current work is important. He gets two weeks off when his Sahel shift is over, the election would be while he's doing his week at the Sahara Station. If Lionheart is re-elected–"

"I will tell the new Commissioner his first priority is to restore Wilde to detective rank at the First... Hmm, scratch that. First priority is to restore both Nyte and Wilde. Can't make it sound like restoring the male is a higher priority than restoring her rank, that would be sexist. They are both good detectives."

"That will play well with the voters," Quale predicted

* * *

Lionheart smiled that afternoon as he faced the press. He knew many of them were hostile to him at the moment, but felt confident he would have most of them on his side by the end of the conference.

"I have asked Bash Mustapha to tender his resignation as Police Commissioner. I asked with a heavy heart. Bash is my friend. I feel he did an outstanding job as Police Commissioner for most of his tenure. And the reason I asked for his resignation was for the loyalty he showed to me. I believe his recent actions in regard to Detectives Wilde and Nyte were inappropriate, but were done in a belief they would help me in the recall election. The Police Commissioner's highest duty must be the best interests of the city of Zootopia and the Police Department – and making certain there is no conflict between what is best for Zootopia and best for the Police Department. In doing what he believed was best for me he politicized the office, and that is why I asked for his resignation."

"What about Wilde and Nyte?" someone yelled.

"Before I address that important question I will make a confession. It was on my request that Commissioner Mustapha appointed Nick Wilde as detective. I felt the city owed him a debt of gratitude for his efforts on the city's behalf. If my request was inappropriate Bash should have told me that at the time."

"So what are you going to do for them now?" was repeated with other reporters murmuring appreciation for the question.

The mayor managed a small chuckle. He hoped it sounded like a sad chuckle. "In regard to Detectives Wilde and Nyte I sadly find myself in something of a Catch Twenty-two. I want them both returned to their appropriate ranks – and make no mistake, in my mind I am fully convinced Detective Wilde has earned his position – but it requires action on the part of the Commissioner of Police, and at the moment Zootopia has no Commissioner of Police. And frankly, given the closeness to the election I think a hurried appointment, getting the candidate vetted properly, and having him or her approved by the City Council would mean it would not happen until after the election. If Nick Wilde is elected, I want him to have a free hand in appointing a Commissioner. If I am re-elected I will tell the new Commissioner that re-instating the two detectives, with any difference in salary being restored, is to be day one priority."

"Will you bring Detective Wilde back from the Sahel?"

"Once again, I do not have that authority. Detective Wilde did not ask for a leave of absence to campaign. He has always maintained that serving the ZPD is an important job, and I applaud his devotion to duty. He will remain in his current position for now, but will have two weeks without any police duties on his return. To help even the playing field slightly I pledge to make no personal appearances or speak for my re-election campaign while he serves in the Sahel. Only after he returns and is able to speak on his own behalf will I do any campaigning."

"You'll suspend all campaigning until he's back?"

"I'll suspend all personal appearances on the recall until his return. Both of our campaigns will continue to run those ads the animals of Zootopia so love to watch – and pay for the time and print space that make your advertising departments happy."

There was laughter from the reporters, and Lionheart smiled. Even if he was not making personal appearances on his own behalf he would remain in the public eye as mayor, but at least he would be spared a couple weeks of the exhausting campaign circuit. And if he refrained from saying anything about the recall the commentators would compliment him in the news broadcasts for keeping his promise.

"Now, are there any brief questions." He had to take two or three before the question S. Quentin Quale had planted in a friendly reporter was asked, "You said you asked for the Commissioner's resignation because he was politicizing the ZPD, and you thought that was wrong?"

"That is correct."

"Is Officer Wilde–"

" _Detective_ Wilde, please."

"Is Detective Wilde making the expansion of the ZPD to include smalls his highest priority in this campaign an example of politicizing the ZPD?"

The Mayor gave his rehearsed shrug, "Detective Wilde and I might have different views on that subject. You can ask him on his return. I am now entering my promised personal silence in regard to the election. Thank you all for coming." He gave them a broad smile, an honest smile, the seed had been planted which called Nick's campaign into question.

* * *

Alces glared at the bunny, "I don't like last minute requests like this."

"I understand. I don't like making a last minute request like this."

The moose stared at her for a minute, then grinned. "We're even. Get out of here."

Judy took a deep breath as she stood at the front of the First. She mentally reviewed all she had packed. She felt confident she hadn't forgotten anything. Four purchases left to make, and trips to two rental agencies to pick up the items she had reserved. And directions. She definitely needed directions.

The satellite phone rang as Joe and Nick visited a meerkat oasis. "Excuse me," the camel apologized to the sheik and left the conversation to answer the call. Nick continued the chat, and finished the paperwork for transporting some produce to the market. "Call for you," Joe yawned as they left. "Personal call. Told her to not make it a habit, but at least it was quick."

"Her? What did she say?"

"I didn't... No, guess I didn't. Gate into the large quarter?"

"What about it?"

"Be there between three-thirty and five."

"Why?"

"That was the message."

Nick glanced at his watch. There were two more stops scheduled, and they would probably be back to headquarters near four. They were back at three-forty, and Nick changed to a fresh uniform after helping unload. He wanted to think the call had come from Judy, but was afraid to get his hopes up. The fox waited, and waited. At five-seventeen he heard the sound of an engine and a dusty figure on a dusty motorcycle crested the hill and headed for the city. He watched as the cyclist rode to the gate.

The short rider stopped the motorcycle in front of Nick and took off her helmet, exposing a grimy rabbit. "Hey, Mister, you order a pizza?" She gestured to the back of the cycle, where a take-out pizza box was fastened down with bungee cords to the rack over the full panniers.

The fox laughed, and gave her a long kiss.

"I got dirt on you," she apologized as the kiss ended.

"It doesn't matter. You'll be happy to hear that when you weren't with me, I realized how much I love you."

"Idiot."

"I say I love you and you call me an idiot?"

"You said you realize you love me when I'm not with you. I can know how much I love you when I'm with you. Now, let's open the pizza – so we can enjoy after pizza sooner." Opening the pizza revealed that... "I should have covered the box with plastic wrap of something. I didn't realize all the dirt and sand I'd have to ride through.

"I didn't know you could ride a motorcycle."

"Sure. We had a small bike on the farm. I rode some bigger ones on the Burke and Hare track – I've never written this far before. I'm a little sore."

"We're going to have to enjoy the après pizza without the pizza... We can wait... How long do I have you? Please, please tell me you're not going back tomorrow."

"I'm taking vacation time. I'm here as long as you are."

He grimaced, "I'm on duty, I can't spend all day with–"

"I was told to bring books. I'll just relax until you're back. And what do I get for pizza delivery this far out. I expect a... Anything I say about getting a big tip from you will probably be twisted into something dirty or suggestive, won't it?"

"Why limit me? I could interpret it as dirty _and_ suggestive, but I'm sure a well-brought up bunny would never mean it the way it sounded."

"I'm assuming I can stay at the station with you."

"Um, probably not. Joe has the room with privacy. I'm sleeping in a cell, and it is too open for what I have in mind doing with you. But I know someone who might know where there is a room for both of us."

"Good. Oh, I have a ton of news about stuff happening in Zootopia. Maybe I should get settled first, it might take awhile to tell you everything."

They walked the bike in to the station and Nick helped Judy unpack and arrange what she brought. She looked over his belongings.

"You brought a dinner jacket?"

"No, had it made. There are good tailors here, and they work fast and cheap."

"So… You're taking me someplace fancy when we get back?"

"Uh, actually it's for my evening job here."

"Evening job? Seriously?"

"I've always been a hard worker. And I have a lot of time to kill, Joe sleeps when we aren't on patrol."

"So… You're a waiter of some kind?"

"Would you believe I play piano at a bar."

"No, I wouldn't. What are you doing really?"

"I play piano."

"You play piano? Why did you never tell me?"

"Because I don't play very well. Silence is better than a really bad piano player. I'm better than silence... Maybe not by much–"

"I bet you're wonderful."

"I bet I'm not."

"I'll know when I hear you."

"You think I'm going to play when you're here? We have better things to do."

"We can't have sex every minute you're off duty."

"Why not? Oh, and in theory I'm always on duty. I know we swore to never fool around while on duty, but I think we might make an exception in this case."

"Nick, I'm serious. I want to hear you."

"No way, it would embarrass me to play for you."

"You play for other animals."

"They don't know me."

She looked up, "Plllleeeeaaassssse?"

"Don't give me bunny eyes! You'll make fun of my playing."

"I'd never make fun of my big strong fox."

"I won't play in... Do you sing?"

"I was in chorus in middle school and high school, I... I don't sing."

"You just said you did."

"I was in chorus. I was never given a solo. Never. I don't sing."

"I'll play the piano for you, if you sing for me. No sing, no piano."

Judy's eyes narrowed, "You know I can't resist a challenge, don't you."

He shrugged, "Makes no difference to me. Those are the terms. I'm happy either way."

They headed to the market. Judy was as impressed as Nick on his first visit, and drew as many stares. "We're looking for a room at the market?" Judy whispered.

"We're looking for someone who claims to know where to find a room." They stopped by a vendor and Nick pointed at a basket. "Know what those are?"

"Persimmons."

"You knew? I thought they were tomatoes?"

"City animal," Judy chuckled.

"Weird tomatoes, they look like weird tomatoes!"

"They look like persimmons, very good persimmons."

"Farm animal," Nick snorted. "Think you know everything." He called to the vendor, "Hey, vendor I've never seen before, I'll pay five creds a kilo for the persimmons, and not a cent less."

"Forget it, stranger who I have never seen before. You shall pay three creds a kilo, and not a cent more."

Some other animals left where they were to come and listen.

"Five and a half creds! Five and a half cred a kilo and no less you lunatic! Look at the beauty of these persimmons – easily the finest in all the market. And if the finest in the market here then the finest in all the world. You are insane if you take less."

"A robber like you calls me insane? It is a compliment from your unclean lips. Two and a half creds a kilo and no more. They are good persimmons, but not as good as the last I brought to the market – and those still ripening on the tree that I shall bring next time are even better. Two and a half!"

"Six credits! The trees growing the fruit are so beautiful that the stars themselves are in awe of–"

"The moon as well."

"Indeed the moon and stars are in awe of the trees which grow such wondrous persimmons," Nick looked at the crowd, "They are picked at the moment of perfection by his virgin sisters, that no hint of contamination would taint their wondrous flavor. Six credits a kilo!"

"Two creds! Two credits a kilo or I shall take a stick and drive you from the market for insulting me!"

The two argued for another minute, escalating the threats leveled against the other. Timon broke first, and started laughing.

A zorilla female whispered to Judy, "Those two are the best act in the marketplace."

Nick took a deep bow, "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week. Matinees on the weekend."

"And for those of you wanting the finest persimmons in the market," Timon promised. "Three creds a kilo."

Nick helped weigh persimmons. He tossed one to Judy who hesitated a moment, and then bit into the delicious fruit. With the basket empty Nick explained to the meerkat, "I need a favor."

"For you, my friend, anything. What's the problem?"

"Judy came down from Zootopia to see me. We need a place for us to stay while she's here."

"A place for the two of you?" He looked back and forth. "What is she?"

"I'm a rabbit," Judy answered for herself. "And you are?"

"Timon… This is a little… unusual. Let me think of someone with a room to let who…"

"Would it help if she is a police officer too?"

The meerkat shrugged. "I do not think so. Let me put away my things and we will visit a place or two." The first place simply refused to rent a room, the second charged more than Timon said was proper, but it was still cheap by Zootopia standards. Judy was shocked by the limits to water use.

* * *

As they walked back to the station for their belongings Judy told him of events in Zootopia – Detective Nyte's demotion, the Commissioner's resignation, and the Mayor's pledge not to campaign while Nick was gone. She finished the narrative with a question, "Do you think if Lionheart is re-elected he would really tell the Police Commissioner to re-instate you and Lylah?"

"I'd bet money on it. He's not the brightest animal in Zootopia, but keeping his word means everything to him. If he says he'll do it, he will do it. Of course, that doesn't mean a new commissioner would follow Lionheart's suggestion."

"And Lylah really could be the next Commssioner?"

"Did he say he would nominate her?"

"No..."

"Exactly what did he say?"

"He said her name was on the list of possible candidates."

"Doesn't mean anything. But if he uses his brain he should consider her for the job. She'd be great."

"Nick Wilde! I don't think you and Lylah dislike each other nearly as much as you claim."

"We don't like each other, but we respect each other. And if she gets moved to City Hall she is out of my fur."

Judy kissed his cheek, "I'm telling her you think she'd do a great job."

* * *

They decided to postpone their celebration of being together until after a visit to Rick's. Nick put on his evening clothes. Judy had packed for a casual vacation, but put together the best outfit she could with what was available. He offered her an arm as they entered the old night club. Strange cries were directed at them, at least strange to the ears of the rabbit.

"Sam!" "You're late." "Play it again, Sam – you know the one I mean."

"Sam?" Judy whispered.

"Me."

"But–"

"Louie already had reserved Rick, and Sam was the only name available."

"Will you tell me or not?"

"I did. The owner of the place is called Rick. The piano player is Sam. As it was explained to me, keeping the name is an act of kindness for the old drunks who have difficulty remembering their own names and so to keep them from the burden of learning a new name the pianist is always Sam."

"Have I ever told you that you're crazy?"

"Frequently."

"It's still true."

A well dressed zorilla came over to them, "I was afraid you wouldn't be here tonight, and worried we might actually have to offer you money as an incentive. There were several customers asking for you."

"Judy, meet Rick – the owner. When he's not being Rick he'll answer to Louie. Rick, this is Judy."

"The love of his life," explained the rabbit.

"Indeed," Nick confirmed. "But, I fear I have bad news, she is also a gendarme."

"You will give Rick's a bad name if you fill it with gendarmes"

Nick put a tip jar on the piano and sat down. He told Judy, "Flip through the sheet music. Find a few things you know. If I know one of them you'll sing it." Then he began a song he remembered well from practicing in his youth, _'As Time Goes By'_.

Two of the songs Judy picked out were well enough known to the fox that he was willing to attempt them. He picked the one that he thought would be easier, and wanted to die a few times when he hit the wrong keys, but she carried on. "You were great," he whispered as she finished.

"No I wasn't."

"You were. I'll play the other one in a minute. See if you can find a few more possibilities. I do vocals on this novelty foxtrot."

It was a song Nick remembered from his record collection, and one he'd practiced the previous afternoon – _'The Wreck of the Nancy Lee'_. He started with the first verse

"I'll tell you the tale of the Nancy Lee,  
The ship that got shipwrecked at sea  
The bravest there was Captain Brown,  
'Cause he played his ukulele as the ship went down."

He grinned at the applause when he finished the last verse. "Fiction to them," he whispered. "Most of them have never seen enough water in one place to drown, and the idea of enough water to float a ship in is beyond comprehension."

Judy sang another song. Nick showed her a piece of sheet music. "If we're here again. You're going to sing this. Syncopation is a little unusual, so just listen when I try and play it tonight. We can practice tomorrow. I think I've got, like, ten different recordings of this in my collection."

"Why do you have so many?"

"You don't have a collectors' mentality, or you would never ask the question."

Nick played _'The Wedding of the Painted Doll'_ as Judy tried to get a feel for the lyrics on the sheet music he played from. It sounded vaguely familiar.

Later in the evening, as Judy flipped through more music she heard something which disturbed her. "Nick," Judy whispered, "I heard someone talk about shooting craps in the back."

"I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on here!"

"We should do something."

"Maybe later."

Some five minutes later a waiter came over to Rick and pulled some credit notes from his pocket. "You were right, you didn't get cashed out properly last night."

"Oh, thank you very much!"

Judy gave him a look of disapproval. "You've been gambling!"

"Just a friendly game."

"And how much were your winnings?"

"There were just fifteen creds there, honest."

"But he said that was just what the error was."

"Around a hundred total. Buy-in was just twenty to get in the game."

* * *

Judy seemed oddly quiet as they left Rick's. "What's wrong?" the fox demanded.

"Nothing," she lied.

"As I've told you, you do a lousy job of lying."

She sighed, "I came out because I was afraid you were lonely and missing me. And you made friends... I didn't need to come out at all!"

"I made friends... Did you want me to spend my time sleeping, like Joe?"

"I wanted you to miss me!"

"I did," he assured her, putting an arm around her and drawing her close. "I thought of you every waking hour. I thought how I'd love you beside me as we explored the town together. I thought of you in the market. I thought... Oh, found a silversmith the first day I was here – I saw a ring I thought you'd love."

"Really?"

"Really. I didn't know the size for you. And, of course, there is... I need to remind you, water is at a premium. No long showers, so anyone with a nose will probably know what we're about to do."

She arched an eyebrow, "Even if the pizza didn't arrive in good condition?"

"You should always tip the delivery person."

"I have idea, rather than snappy comeback to your suggestive comment we can try going to our room and taking off our clothes."

* * *

Nick found the silversmith's shop where he had seen the ring. "There, that's the design. Remember, tap my hip twice if you like it, but don't look too anxious – maybe I can haggle a better price."

"Ah the stranger," the old zorilla said, looking up from his work bench. "I..." He looked back and forth between them. He inhaled deeply. He seemed puzzled. "The males and females of your species look very different."

"Some might think we were different species entirely," Nick agreed.

Judy quietly tapped his hip four times. Then she tapped his hip four more times.

He glanced over to let her know he got the message, and only two taps were required. But it was obvious from her expression she loved the ring. The smile on the face of the silversmith indicated he had seen the look on her face also, and the fox realized his room for negotiation was very small indeed.

Judy held up her arm as they left the shop to admire the ring. "It is beautiful!"

"Oh, and the inscription is some sort of silly promise that I will love you forever."

"Really?"

"That what he told me when–" He couldn't finish the sentence. Judy pulled him down and gave him an enthusiastic kiss.

The pair arrived at Rick's, "Guess who bought me a ring?" she asked Louis, and showed him her paw. "Can you read the inscription? I was told it says something about eternal love?"

"I can't read the old language," he told her. "But it is a zorilla betrothal ring, and I've always heard it a pledge of eternal love."

"A betrothal ring?" Judy asked in an excited voice, "like in being engaged?"

"Wait," protested the fox, "I didn't–" Judy's sudden hug caught him off guard and squeezed the wind out of him. "I didn't know anything like that when I saw it."

"You sly fox," she teased. "Of course I'll marry you."

"It can't be an engagement ring. An engagement ring has a diamond."

"Do you think the old zorillas were wealthy enough they owned diamonds?" Louis asked. "And we had no gold. Silver was the most precious metal we knew. The early rings were often copper or even tin."

"I didn't know it was an engagement ring!"

"It's fate," insisted Judy.

"It's coincidence!"

"Louis might think you don't want to marry me, the way you're protesting."

"Of course I want to marry you. But I'm supposed to ask you first."

"According to tradition," the zorilla explained. "You did not ask her her at all. You spoke with her father, and only after he approved did you present her with the ring. While tradition says only the father was asked there is strong reason to think he did not give his consent without talking with his wife."

"So he has to ask my father for his permission?"

"That is the tradition. Your species did not have similar traditions?"

"Foxes have the tradition. Hardly anyone still follows it… My dad drove up to the house at one in the morning, my mom jumped out the window and they left town. Grandpa would have never approved." He looked at Judy, "You really want me to ask your father – like you're his property? I'd rather ask you to marry me."

"Can you move a little faster on asking me? I'm already wearing my engagement… I need to call Suze, and Mom, and Hye, and… Darn, the satellite phone doesn't take pictures!

* * *

Over the next two weeks Judy made many purchases, mostly for the kitchen. She wanted to buy a carpet, but feared her budget could not allow it. She wasn't sure if she would ever wear the evening gown she had made once they were back in Zootopia – but it looked good when she sang at Rick's. Both animals were grateful for the lack of cell service, it kept from anyone from making a video of them and uploading it to the web.

Nick woke up first on their final morning in the city and smiled as he felt Judy's breath on his fur. He tried to put an arm around her without waking her, but failed.

"Morning," she yawned. "Back to Zootopia today."

"Let's stay here."

"What?"

"We can be officers on duty. There's no crime here. Everyone likes us. We're together. It will be perfect."

"Zootopia is home."

"Zootopia is crazy."

"We have friends there."

"We can make friends here. No politics, no crazy press conferences or Commissioners with an axe to grind. We can entertain at Rick's every night, and then make love."

"You don't mean it. We have too many responsibilities at home."

He was silent for a minute. "I know," he admitted. "But part of me really wants it. I just want to be somewhere quiet with you. I don't want the hassles and headaches."

"And you have friends counting on you. Mirage said you always keep your word to your friends."

"That's pretty low, using my own words against me."

"I think you can make a difference for a lot of animals. When I think of all you could do, the problems of two little animals looks like it don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. I would love to just stay with you – wherever you're happy I'll be happy. But we have responsibilities. If that truck returns to Zootopia and you're not in it, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."

"I suppose. Well, in a couple hours we leave the world of civilization and return to the wild and savage place that is Zootopia."

The motorcycle was loaded onto the truck, along with items being sent to meerkat, zorilla, and lion families who had moved to Zootopia. Nick purchased two kilos of persimmons and Judy loaded her many purchases into the back of the truck as well.

Nick drove; three weeks of practice had given him the ability to handle the blocks tied to the accelerator and brake pedals, although he still had to sit up very straight to see over the dashboard. Judy sat in the middle of the bench seat, and Joe leaned against the door on the passenger side, snoring. His ability to apparently store sleep, like water, was a marvel to the fox and rabbit. As they neared Zootopia Judy pulled out her satellite phone, "I'm going to call Ben and say where we are."

"Why? You're not going to tell him about the ring, are you?"

"I told him already. He was number nine on the list. And I'm calling because everyone has been worried about you and wants to know you're safe."

The bunny placed her call. "Ben? Judy. We're on our way back. ... Yes, it will be good to see you too. ... What do I want most? Probably a long, long shower. ... Oh, that would be sweet. ... Anything exciting at the First?" Judy listened for an extended time. "We just passed the last oasis before Sahara Station, should arrive in about an hour and a half. ... Oh... See you tomorrow."

"Any excitement you need to share?"

"I think it can wait."

"I'm going home, flopping down on my bed, and doing ten to twelve hours of Joe impression. Carrots, much as I love you, I want ten to twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep and alone time."

"Understood," she agreed. She wondered if she should warn him that Clawhauser had said there would probably be a small army of reporters at the Sahara Station awaiting his return.

* * *

 **Notes:**

The song Eleanor Wilde sang to her children was _'What I Want Is a Proper Cup of Coffee'_. The original version comes from 1928, and later adaptations, by definition, were written later. Variants recorded by different artists can be found on YouTube. The 1921 song, _'The Wreck of the Nancy Lee'_ has the alternate title _'He Played His Ukulele As the Ship Went Down'_. There weren't many recordings of this novelty foxtrot. And _'The Wedding of the Painted Doll'_ was a standard written in 1929. Many bands recorded Doll, but it didn't have the range of variants that can be found for Coffee.

For anyone who missed it last chapter, white house = Casablanca. Several riffs on dialogue in the movie this chapter. The story that the Nazis missed a meeting between FDR and Churchill in North Africa because they translated Casablanca as White House and thought Churchill had flown to Washington DC appears to be urban legend. (And the FDR - Churchill meeting didn't take place in Casablanca, although it was held near Casablanca.)


	8. We'll Meet All Your Demands

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter title from verse eight of Dylan's _When the Ship Comes In_.

 **We'll Meet All Your Demands  
**

"Nick?" Judy said cautiously.

"Yes?"

"I know you just said you wanted to drop into bed, but Ben said there'd probably be reporters waiting at the Sahara Station."

The fox groaned, "He alerted them?"

"No. They knew how long you'd be at the Sahel station before I left."

"I offered to just stay there with you, but noooo, you insisted it was our duty to come back to Zootopia and pretend we're responsible adults."

"Don't worry, dear, no one who really knows you will believe you're responsible."

* * *

S. Quentin Quale suggested "Wilde will be back in Zootopia today, why don't you give Detective Nyte a phone call? Good press."

"No," Lionheart answered. "He's not back yet, and I said I wouldn't do any campaigning until he was back in Zootopia

* * *

"How long are we going to wait out here?" one reporter complained to another.

"You can go home if you want."

"And my editor will skin me alive."

"So, how long will you wait?"

"As long as it takes," the complainer sighed.

"Officers don't have a precise time, we were here early just in case. That captain here told me between four-thirty and five-thirty is typical.

"HEY!" another television reporter shouted. "Our helicopter says they're maybe fifteen minutes away."

In the truck Judy nudged the sleeping camel, "Reporters outside Sahara Station."

"Wha?" he yawned. He stared. "What the–"

"They're here to see Nick."

"Why?"

"Because he's running for Mayor."

The camel frowned, "Am I dreaming? Why did you–"

"You never asked," Nick reminded him. "And would it have made a difference?"

"I might have called you, 'Your Honor'... Want me to unload so you can handle the press?"

"No," Nick told him. "Shift isn't over until–"

"That would be perfect," Judy assured him. "Thank you. Is there room in storage for the motorcycle I rented and the stuff I bought? Can it be put into a corner or something? I've got one day of vacation left and can pick it up tomorrow."

"Should be no problem. I'll probably know before Nick can finish the press conference."

"Before Judy and I can finish with the press. She's always good copy."

"She's that Judy Hopps?"

Nick sighed, "You spend too much time asleep."

Judy and Nick walked out of the garage arm in arm.

"Hey, Nick," a reporter called. "Off-duty or going to arrest us for interfering with your duties?"

"Off-duty, and dead tired. Don't expect any brilliant sound bytes today."

"Did you hear the Commissioner was asked to resign? Comments?"

"Detective Hopps brought be me up to date on events of two weeks ago. Any changes in the city since then?"

"Do you always call her Detective Hopps?"

"Fine, Judy told me the Commissioner was asked to resign."

"Your comment on the Commissioner Mustapha being out for being too political?"

"I think the Mayor was right to ask for his resignation. Demoting Detective Nyte was a serious mistake."

"Your demotion?"

"If I'm not elected Mayor I'll be happy being a detective again."

"And you heard the Mayor claimed to have been the reason you were promoted?"

"I assumed that was the case. I'm pretty sure a letter from my Mom wouldn't have done it. I believe Nyte said she thought I was promoted earlier than I should have been?"

"She did, but said you're okay."

"Anyway, point is that I figured the Mayor had made the request because of Judy's hard work, and I just got undeserved benefit from it."

"You worked very hard too," the rabbit insisted.

"There is a rumor going around the two of you are now engaged."

Nick looked at Judy, "You want to answer that? I'm curious what you'll say."

"Nick and I..." She hesitated, "I'm not sure if we're officially unofficially engaged, or unofficially officially engaged."

"Can you explain that in a way that makes sense?"

"Go ahead," urged Nick, "I want to hear it too."

"Well, while he did his shift in the Sahel be bought be a traditional engagement ring–"

"It was a pretty ring I saw at the silversmith! I thought she might like it! I didn't know it was an engagement ring!"

Judy shrugged, "That's his story. I say it's fate. He bought me an engagement ring. I accepted it and said I'll marry him as soon as he works through his fear of commitment and asks."

Nick reminded her, and informed the press, "The actual tradition associated with the ring was the bad old days when the female wasn't even consulted and it was a matter of asking her father's permission."

"That was then. This is now. A male now asks her, and in this case you ask me."

"You are picking and choosing what part of the tradition you want to honor."

"If you haven't noticed, Dear, we all do that."

Nick, and the reporters, laughed and the fox gave her a hug.

There were a handful of other questions, then the two were allowed to depart. Reporters had hoped for a little more hard news of the campaign issues but hadn't gotten much good copy in the traditional sense. Nick was supposed to come back and attack the current Mayor for how he had been treated. Instead the fox had shrugged it off. Reporters were divided on whether Nick had failed, because he had not taken advantage of the large media presence to attack Lionheart, or he had succeeded by keeping his focus by not launching into other issues. In either case Judy Hopps was a hero to the city and anything she did was worth coverage. For some reporters the direction it seemed best to take would be on the subject, "Will He or Won't He," and the engagement issue.

* * *

Polls immediately after Lylah Nyte's demotion had been a disaster for the Mayor. In one he had trailed Nick by almost twenty points. It was the poll with the largest margin for error, with others suggesting the fox's lead at that point was between fourteen and sixteen percent. During Nick's Sahel tour of duty Lionheart had regained votes. He trailed Nick by about ten points in polls of all voters, but in polls of likely voters the two were statistically even – Nick winning in two of the better polls and Lionheart in one, but in all three cases the margin of victory was less than the statistical margin for error.

Doc Wheeler called Nick to update him as soon as the fox got back.

He was told to call back in twelve hours after Nick had slept long enough to think clearly.

Eleven hours and fifty-three minutes later Doc Wheeler called back.

"Have you seen the polls?"

"For the last ten hours all I've seen is the back of my eyelids."

"While you were gone; did you watch the polls while you were gone?"

"No polls. There weren't even barber poles. You're going to make me miss Sahel."

"I'm not kidding, Nick. You've got a higher favorability rating than the Mayor. But in terms of likely voters it's a dead heat."

"What do you want me to do? It's not supposed to be a beauty contest. This is about getting a police department for smalls."

"But we got to do what we got to do to get it!"

"We could have Lionheart assassinated."

"I'm serious, Nick."

"I'm not?"

"No, you're not. You should have attacked him for the demotion and sending you out of town."

"I don't think that was him, it was Mustapha."

"And who appointed Mustapha as Police Commissioner? Mustapha was just a fall guy."

"The Mayor is not stupid and would have expected backlash. He might have been willing to accept some for me – but no way would Lionheart have had Nyte demoted. We need to stay focused on equality for smalls."

"And we need to get voters out. We'll win if there's a big turnout."

* * *

"He didn't give us much ammunition, did he?" S. Quentin Quale commented glumly at a strategy planning session at the Mayor's office the day after Nick's return. "This would be a whole lot easier if he'd said something really stupid."

"There was a lot of attention to the interspecies relationship," Deering reminded him. "The problem being that those who are against them were voting for Leodore already. It didn't bring any new voters."

"And Hopps is such a hero it may bring Wilde more votes."

"Hopps has been in the equation since day one," Lionheart reminded his campaign director. "It won't change things."

"I think it's time to start the attack ads. Launch a lot of them right now, we can saturate the media before Adamson has time to retaliate."

Deering and Lionheart agreed with each other that it was a bad idea. Deering explained, "It would look like a large bullying a short. It might bring out even more voters."

"Well we need to do something."

"Offer a couple debates," suggested Lionheart.

"No way," Quale advised.

"Why not?"

"Let me count the ways. First, you give him credibility. He's an fucking police detective who has no business in hell running for Mayor against the veteran Mayor of the greatest city in the world. Pretending he's worth debating makes him look like a legitimate candidate. Second, if you stick with the 'no attacking the other guy' thing you've pulled the teeth out of the usual political strategy, and–"

"Leaving his campaign strategist without an idea in his head," Deering commented.

"Third," Quale continued, "He's making this a one issue campaign, and you saying you didn't read the recommendations before agreeing with a fired Commissioner isn't going to look good. Fourth, he's smooth. He spent years as a hustler and may be able to trip you up and make you look bad – this could hurt you bad, and I'm not sure if debates can help you with voters. And that's because, finally, most voters are idiots. They vote for who seems like someone they'd rather have a beer with. He's got you beat on likeability."

"You will call the media and his campaign headquarters and offer to debate," Lionheart told his manager. "I was running, and winning, campaigns before I ever met you. This is something different than I've ever experienced before, and its obviously something you're not equipped to handle. I can beat him – and I need you to start thinking outside the box."

"But–"

"Better listen to him," Deering advised.

"Does he know what he's doing?"

"We'll find out in the debate."

* * *

According to the police department Nick had two weeks of freedom in which to relax after the Sahel shift. It didn't feel like two weeks of relaxation. Sahel was an inconvenience because of its isolation, but it had been a time to relax, make new friends, try new foods, and not worry about the election. Now back in Zootopia Doc Wheeler and Elsa Adamson had him scheduled for at least three appearances a day.

"Do you get tired of hearing me deliver the same speech over and over?" he asked the reporters assigned to cover him.

"Sort of," one admitted.

"We're waiting for you to become a real politician."

"I'm no politician, and I've got no idea what you mean."

"Attacking your opponent. Politicians always attack their opponents. Some of us have a little betting pool going on which one of you will break first and attack the other, and what day it will be. Your going out of town really threw off the schedule."

"Sorry to inconvenience you. Any of you have me attacking Lionheart first?" Two raised their paws. "Trust me, you can't win the betting pool. A guy with my record should never throw the first stone."

"Politicians do stupid things all the time," one of the reporters who had bet on him attacking first pointed out.

"Ouch," Nick laughed, "Good point. But fortunately I'm not a politician. Hour and a half until my next stop. Can the candidate who voters would most like to have a cider with offer to pay for a round?"

"Are you trying to bribe us for good coverage?"

"If you're afraid that accepting a cider will change your story I advise you to stick with two cents plain. If buying you a cider won't buy your good opinion then you should accept the offer."

Reporters covering Nick found him warm and likeable, and it came across in news stories. Voters who saw experience as the highest priority tended to support Lionheart. Large voters were strongly for Lionheart, smalls for Wilde, shorts tended toward the fox also, but not as strongly as small voters.

* * *

The League of Female Voters sponsored the first debate. As they met with the moderator before the start Lionheart turned to the fox, "Detective Wilde, I'm hoping you will refer to me as Leodore during this discussion."

"Uh, sure... Call me Nick."

"Thank you, Nicholas."

"Nick, please."

"Nick. I want to compliment you for the way you've managed your campaign. It is rare to meet an individual who brings so much civility to what is often a brutal exchange of insults. I'm hoping our discussion tonight will reflect those same high standards."

"It is a debate," the moderator reminded them.

The lion shrugged, "Debate sounds so adversarial. Nick and I hold so many views in common I don't think it will be heated enough to qualify as a debate."

The Mayor's warm and friendly manner put Nick on his guard. Clearly the lion was up to something, the question was – what? Was he trying to lull Nick into a false sense of security before he pounced? It would probably be subtle, the Mayor was too experienced to make an overt attack.

It had been an unusual campaign, so far, and viewers tuned in expecting that the veneer of civility that had marked the campaign until this point would melt away and that blood would figuratively be spilled on the debate floor. They were disappointed.

Nick gave the opening remarks after the introduction. He had never liked television cameras on him, always haunted by a vague fear of being recognized for some scam or another he had run years earlier. His nervousness this evening was further compounded by being thrown off rhythm as he tried to guess Lionheart's game plan. He focused on what he had promised to focus on, the expansion of the ZPD.

The Mayor, in contrast, seemed more relaxed than most viewers could remember. He thanked Nick for the keeping the campaign on a high level and apologized for the demotion. He did chide the fox for making it sound like his administration had a poor record on civil rights. He pointed to advances for females and shorts, especially the addition of more shorts into the ZPD. "Society can not be changed overnight. I believe the goal of expanding the ZPD to include small officers has merit. I believe the ideas put forth by the Task Force for Small Integration in my Commission for Greater Police Accountability, a task force lead by Nick, have value. My concern is that it is too much too soon. The small community developed structures for keeping order long ago. Are they perfect? No. But the large and short communities have not developed perfect structures either. Equal treatment for all animals should be the goal of anyone running for Mayor. I applaud Nick's goals. The only difference between us is one of timing."

In rebuttal Nick pointed out that the difference was more than timing, since the Mayor had no time table at all. And, while equality could not be magically put in place with a wave of the paw it was important to try and keep moving forward if progress were to be made.

Lionheart waved away Nick's rebuttal. "It is a matter of timing. We both have equality for all citizens as our goal. And I want to move to a another area of equality. The story of your father touched me. I checked the statistics you quoted on the difficulties small and short species have in getting loans. While there were minor differences in details according to the source you consult they all agreed, the discrimination is there. It is harder to get a loan if you aren't large. We both want this to be a city where anyone can reach their dream if they're willing to work hard. That dream brought your father here. We need a level playing field of opportunity and that is an issue I've begun to work on. The banks and financial institutions will, of course, scream 'Over-regulation'." He gestured to Nick, "And you can explain to viewers why the over-regulation protest will be made."

The fox wasn't sure if this represented a trap. Did the Mayor expect him to fail to provide and answer? Was the Mayor looking for a poor explanation? He was certain it wasn't a fair question even as he cautiously answered, "Regulations are created to protect consumers, investors, and workers. Industry will claim over-regulation if a bill is passed outlawing dumping arsenic in rivers, banks will insist there is over regulation if they have to keep your money safe and branch managers aren't allowed to embezzle funds and lose them in a casino. Factories will protest if they have to provide fire extinguishers and have unlocked fire doors and claim it is over-regulation. They holler 'Over-regulation,' but if you ask them to provide an example it is usually pretty clear that the law was meant to protect consumers, workers, or investors."

"Exactly," Lionheart agreed, "well said. Now it is possible to regulate too far – requiring a factory produce no carbon dioxide, which would mean workers would not be allowed to breathe. Banks can't be forced to loan to anyone who asks for money to lose at the casinos. They have a responsibility to depositors. But they must not be allowed to discriminate against borrowers because of size. It will not be easy to balance the needs of depositors, borrowers, and financial institutions but I believe it will create economic opportunity for all sizes in the city."

* * *

S. Quentin Quale congratulated Lionheart the next day, "You were brilliant, took the wind out of Wilde's sails completely."

"You didn't seem yourself," Deerimg commented, "I mean that in a good way – much warmer."

"Dignity has always been my motto," the Mayor told her. "In everything I do I attempt to preserve the dignity of my office."

She didn't comment. It seemed to her it more often came off as an air of pompous self-importance, but if he thought that was dignity she wouldn't argue.

"But if the public wants warmth and back-slapping I'll be warm and back-slapping." He laughed, "Actors, hustlers, and politicians. We all put on a face for the public... I dare say every animal has the face they want to world to see, but it is especially true for actors, hustlers, and politicians. The difference being we politicians are expected to stand behind what we say."

"Are you saying Wilde is still a hustler?" asked Quale.

"Not at all. If I didn't think he had reformed I wouldn't have had him made detective. He's a good animal, and he is standing up for what he believes. But he's in over his head. I've been working to make this city great for years. I was Mayor while he was out on the streets cheating smalls. And I'll be damned if I'll go down without a fight. He's changed the rules of engagement – which has limited what you can do. But I'll fight him on his own terms."

"By complimenting him and agreeing with him?" protested Quale.

"Exactly. Low voter turnout favors me. I want Nick and I to sound so much alike voters will decide there is no reason to vote – it won't make a difference. There will still be some who turn out – those who want a large Mayor and those opposed to interspecies relationships. They will be enough to elect me with other voters not seeing enough difference between Nick and me to matter."

* * *

"How could you let him do that to you?" Elsa Adamson demanded in the campaign's analysis of the debate.

"She's right," Doc Wheeler agreed.

"He surprised me," Nick told them. "Did either of you expect the Lionheart we saw last night?"

"No," they admitted.

"I expected him to offer some lousy reason for shooting down the Task Force proposals. He almost made it sound like he was in favor of it! And when he went off on the banking regulation... He knew that sounded good to me."

"Well agree with him on the banking issue, but keep the focus on police for the smalls, that's supposed to be what this campaign is all about.

* * *

Analysts were in agreement about the debate. Lionheart had won. They were in agreement that it was the most civil debate anyone could ever remembered seeing, and was unlikely to ever happen again. They were equally in agreement it was a thrilling to view as watching paint dry. The hyperbole, venom, and passion that usually made debates worth watching – to see who would make a slip had failed to materialize. Viewers were urged to watch the cooking channel or a sports event rather than the bro-fest the second debate promised to be if it followed the content of the first.

Nick kept the focus on smalls and their lack of protection in the second debate, but Lionheart did his best to paper over the differences between them. Reporters gave the night to Nick, but agreed it was close. Viewers watched other programming.

"Can I have a word?" Lionheart requested as the cameras went off.

"Sure, Your Honor."

"Leodore. I was serious about that, Nick."

"It wasn't just a warm and fuzzy ploy for votes?"

"It can't be both?"

"You changed tactics. Caught me off-guard the first night."

"Good. You changed how things are being done in this election. Caught me by surprise. It only seemed fair to try and surprise you. But the banking thing really is important to me. You may think I brought it up just for votes... Okay, the timing of the announcement was for votes. But I am serious, I'm hoping it will help all sizes to have equal opportunity here. Could you take me someplace where you feel an animal has been limited by lack of opportunity through a bank's refusal?"

Nick narrowed his eyes, "Is this a test to make me look bad? Or move the focus of the campaign?"

"I'm not trying to make you look bad... Okay, I can see where you'd be suspicious of my shifting focus. Want me to visit a small area of town where you feel the lack of policing has had a negative impact?"

Nick wondered if he should consult Elsa or Vaughn, but instead accepted the paw the Mayor had extended and shook on it. "Deal."

The day after the second 'debate' pollsters predicted the election would see a record low turnout. The candidates seemed so similar, to most voters, that it wouldn't matter who was elected. The voters most likely to go to the polls were large voters as a show of solidarity and animals who thought interspecies relationships were wrong. Both groups would vote Lionheart.

* * *

Three black and white squad cars arrived early to check the streets for possible problems. "Move along," Officer Delgato told Duke Weasleton.

Grumbling the weasel put his bootleg DVDs into a box and moved them to a storage spot, then returned to see what the fuss was about.

 _"Der goes da neighberhoid,"_ the disgruntled weasel thought, looking on as a limo stopped in front of a small restaurant and Lionheart and Wilde got out. Meanwhile a fleet of news trucks jammed the street. _"Gonna gets all geriatricafied."_

"Best cannoli in all Zootopia," Nick promised. "He could move to a better neighborhood if he could get a decent loan. Instead here he is. Not one of the first neighborhoods you'd want to bring a visitor to Zootopia."

The owner was all smiles as the cameras rolled, "Nick, Your Honor, I'm so... Welcome. Special cannoli, to mark the day. The Mayor, double-sized with lemon ricotta filling. Nick, we renamed your favorite 'the Detective'."

"Got any large cups for his Nibs here?" the fox asked. "I've told the Mayor your coffee is outstanding too."

Lionheart managed to squeeze into a booth never intended for large species as reporters ordered cannoli and coffee for themselves.

A waitress, a weasel teen who didn't appear old enough to vote, cautiously approached the table with the candidates. "Mister Wilde?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, I saw on TV... There was this weasel who said you helped him get into the Police Academy?"

"Ernie. Yes? You want to get into the Police Academy?"

"No, uh..." she took a slip of paper from an apron pocket and quickly handed it to him. "Could you, uh, give him my name and number?"

"GINA!" the owner called, "Don't bother the candidates."

"Sorry, Papa, just asking if they need anything!" She whispered to Nick, "Don't tell Papa."

After the weasel restaurant everyone got back into their vehicles and rode to an area that had been largely abandoned after devastation from fights between two rival small gangs some twenty years earlier. Two or three blocks near Rodentia had never been restored. "Serves as kind of a no-animals land between the mobs," Nick explained. "Big finally intervened and ended the fighting. Should a mobster have to be the one who restores order? They deserve better."

The Mayor was silent for a moment. His only comment to the reporters before getting back into the limo was, "I believe I have gained a deeper appreciation for Nick's point of view today."

On the ride back to City Hall Nick asked, "Well, think you can support ZPD expansion for small officers now?"

The lion sighed, "I've painted myself into a corner. I told the voters my position. Was I wrong? Perhaps. But I feel an obligation to hold to my word."

"Even if you might be wrong?"

"Even if I'm wrong. Nick, let's assume for a minute I'm re-elected. Is there any way the Task Force can tweak any part of your recommendations so I can say I am so happy with the modifications I think it will work? It doesn't have to be big, just give me something I can point to, anything at all, and I'll proclaim it's enough to change my mind."

"Doubt it. I wasn't sure we'd ever get it done – everyone told us it was impossible. I struggled to get the heads of the various city departments on board, and none of them were enthusiastic. I struggled to get the commission to accept the proposals. And the small business association? The mobs? I had friends telling me I'd never come out of the meeting alive. We got a unique combination of favorable events working for us when they accepted the plan. Take anything away from what we promised the mobs, and they'll back out. Give them anything more and the Commission and department heads will back out. This was it. You talked about patience. Well, if this doesn't fly it will be a long time before another plan will get everyone to accept it."

* * *

Two nights after the second debate a small campaign center for Nick, and a short campaign center for the fox were vandalized. The building housing the small center was completely obliterated.

The Mayor denounced the vandalism.

The next night several houses in a short neighborhood with campaign signs for Nick had windows smashed. One homeowner saw a large dark shape fleeing. If anyone else saw a thing they denied it for fear of possible reprisal.

Lionheart and Nick appeared together on television, insisting violence had no place in an election. Lionheart made a particularly impassioned plea, emphasizing Zootopia as a city where all should be able to live together in peace and safety.

Whoever had committed the vandalism had been careful to leave no evidence behind, at least none the police were able to find. The crimes were not committed within the First Precinct and Nick wasn't familiar with the detectives handing the investigation. He wanted to think he and Judy could have produced results, and almost went looking to see if Duke Weasleton had any information. Then the fox took a deep breath and tried to calm down. The detectives from the Third had all earned their rank. They knew how to gather evidence. It was their case, and they would resent it if he tried to interfere. But he wanted to interfere. He called Carson, the detective he knew best at the Third. Carson didn't have the case, but knew the detectives who were on it. He assured Nick the detectives working the case were fully competent, and the fox should keep his nose out.

The next evening police in a different part of the city caught two teen lions vandalizing a Nick campaign center for short species. The two insisted they had nothing to do with the earlier incidents.

A bear with a history of anger issues was arrested the next day when he started ripping out signs for Nick in the neighborhood of larges where he lived. The short whose window had been broken several nights earlier said he thought the dark figure fleeing the scene was a bear.

Polls showed the incidents angered voters. Not that any polls were needed. Radio talk shows with whose listening audiences tended to be smalls or shorts reflected the rage. More nuanced callers pointed out that crazies came in every size and every species. A couple teens – an age when actions were often irresponsible – or a bear whose neighbors agreed he had mental issues did not mean all large species committed attacks on smaller animals. But the failure of the police to arrest the original vandal or vandals brought the department into question. Some fringe conspiracy buffs accused the ZPD of participating in a coverup. The more common perception was that it underscored the need for the police department to expand with the inclusion of small officers.

What the polls clearly indicated was a swing in the number of likely voters, with the larger numbers all being in Nick's favor.

Perhaps the news should have made Nick happy. It didn't. He once again wished he was working on finding the vandals. And he once again reminded himself it wasn't his case. The detectives who had investigated reported no evidence at the crime scene. The lack of evidence made Nick suspicious. He called Doc Wheeler and demanded a meeting.

"Polls look great!" the hamster commented in a cheery voice when they got together for coffee and a private chat.

"I'm not happy about that."

"Why?"

Nick expressed his suspicions.

"Any evidence?"

"No. But I want to hear what you know about this."

"I don't know anything!"

"I've heard you say you'd do anything to insure smalls got a police force."

"I... Okay, I have said that. But it was hyperbole! It doesn't mean I'd murder Lionheart or commit crimes."

Nick sighed, "I don't have proof. But I think I'm right. And it stinks. We have to do something."

"Saying what you think could cost us the election – and you admitted you don't have any proof. I say we just drop it if there is no evidence."

"I think we need to do something. I have an idea." Nick shared his plan with Doc Wheeler.

The hamster didn't like the idea, "Too dangerous. Lionheart would never go along. He'd sell you out."

"We try and bring him on, or I call the radio and television stations."

An hour later they met with Lionheart in a small conference room in City Hall. Doc Wheeler insisted on sweeping the room for electronic microphones before anything was said.

"Is he always that paranoid, Nick?"

"Not usually. He's against this meeting, afraid I'm going to say something you can use against me. I believe if you give your word of honor the conversation won't leave the room until some time after the election you can be trusted."

Lionheart hesitated. "Not sure I want to hear it. If it's something good for me I want to be able to use it."

"It's a theory Nick has," Wheeler explained. "A theory! No evidence!"

Nick asked, "And if the evidence comes out, and I'm right?"

"What if the evidence comes out, and you're wrong?" the hamster countered.

"I don't know if the two of you are doing this on purpose to get me interested or not, but you have succeeded. However, if I understand it correctly there are no facts to support if an idea Nick has is true?"

"That is correct."

"The facts, if known, might have a powerful effect on the outcome of the election?"

"They would," Wheeler assured him. "But we don't know them. And shouldn't share them with you."

"Yes we should," Nick insisted.

The lion was silent for minute. "I've never been offered sensitive information by an opposing candidate. I think it speaks highly of your integrity, and I will do my best to equal you. While I'm not sure what you're talking about, it appears that if evidence emerges about something it could sway the election for one of us. If evidence is uncovered that supports me, I want to be able to use it."

"Completely fair," agreed Nick.

"And you keep your mouth shut if it doesn't," Wheeler seconded. "And let the record reflect I'm against telling you this."

The lion listened carefully as Nick talked. "That makes sense. I want to believe you're right." He looked at the hamster, "But if I went to the media and claimed it without proof you could accuse me of being paranoid." He looked back at Nick, "The fact you asked for this meeting suggests you have some idea in mind for dealing with the issue."

Nick explained.

"I agree with Doctor Wheeler's assessment, your idea is crazy."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Wheeler told him.

"Leodore, please. We're all friends here."

Doc Wheeler did not feel like the Mayor's friend, but responded, "Thanks. Call me Vaughn."

"Okay, at least you two are being civil," Nick told them. "And you don't like my idea. I can't say I'm fond of it myself. Either of you got a better one?"

"No, but give me a minute," Wheeler requested.

"I'll give you three," the fox told him, and stared at his watch. After three minutes of silence Nick made a loud buzzing sound and announced, "Time's up."

Lionheart pointed out, "And, of course, the three of us can not do this by ourselves. I need to call Missuss Bardoka."

"Who is she?" Nick asked

"Head of Public Records."

The middle-aged ewe listened to the proposal and gave them her opinion, "No."

"Why?"

"Well, obviously it is illegal."

"Is it?" Lionheart demanded.

She thought a moment, "Well, I'm not certain if it is actually illegal, but it is certainly unethical and perhaps immoral."

Nick repeated the question, "Why?"

"First because of harm to... harm to..."

"Who is hurt?"

"I'm not certain," she snapped. "But public records are, by definition, a matter of public record. And the law requires they be filed in a timely manner and be available to the public, on request, within a reasonable period of time."

"Does the law define 'timely manner' or 'reasonable period of time'?"

"No," she admitted. "The law recognizes there might be times when things couldn't be filed as quickly as other times. I've told clerks that forms are to be filed within seven working days – max, and requests for documents should be honored within two working days. You're asking for... For what?"

Nick suggested, "The forms would be locked in your desk for a month or two. Since the law doesn't define timely manner I don't see the law being violated. And, of course, they may be perfectly useless anyway."

"And if someone requests to see the filings?"

The hamster spoke, "This is not my idea. But I would like to know how often such filings are requested?"

"I... I've worked in the office for almost thirty years. I'm not sure I've ever heard a request. But it still feels wrong."

"Missus Bardoka," Nick asked, "I seem to remember a backlash against sheep in government when the Night Howler affair broke. Why were you able to stay in?"

"Mayor Lionheart defended... That is beside the point."

"If the request were for something actually illegal it would be beside the point," Nick told her in a soothing tone. "We want the election to be fair to all concerned. You've already admitted it isn't illegal, simply unusual."

"Highly unusual! Unique! You are asking me to go against my standards for... For what? There must be some reason you're making the request. Please explain."

"We'd rather not," Nick answered.

Lionheart told her, "We're asking you to trust us on this."

"I require an explanation," she told them primly. "If you want my help you must trust me. Please tell me why you want this."

Nick explained.

"Not today. Your timing is wrong – trust me," she told them. "I will double-check the law. If my memory is correct we should meet Tuesday, in this room. I will bring the necessary forms. Oh, and it must be before noon."

"Why Tuesday?"

"You want this to be legal?"

"Yes."

"Tuesday – and before noon. Eleven-thirty." She thought a moment, "I'll bring my notary stamp. We shouldn't need anyone beyond the four of us."

* * *

There was another incident of large vandalism, inspired by earlier incidents. The perpetrator was arrested. On the night before the election, what the news media had dubbed the Phantom Vandal struck again, once again leaving no clues to the perpetrator's identity. Commentators on radio and television stations discussed how it underlined the handicaps the ZPD faced investigating crimes against small species.

Turnout for the election was higher than had predicted a week earlier.

That evening the civic center served as the venue for the first joint election result party in the history of Zootopia. The candidates held a news conference as the polls closed.

"Do you think this will establish a precedent," a reporter asked the Mayor, "the two candidates holding a joint party like this?"

"I doubt it. I suspect the city will never see a candidate like Nick again."

"Detective Wilde, what are your plans if elected?"

"Exactly what I've always said – establishing a police force for smalls. That will be my priority."

"Other plans?"

"Let me get elected first. But Leodore's ideas for banking regulation are good."

"And if you lose?"

"I believe I'll be taking another shift in the Sahel."

"Have you thought about a vacation until a new Commissioner is confirmed?"

"The Sahel isn't bad, or at least it wasn't when Judy was there. And who knows when a Commissioner will be confirmed."

"Mayor Lionheart, do you have a nominee for Commissioner?"

"The election has been taking my time. I have a short list of three individuals to interview – if elected."

"Is Detective Nyte one of the three?"

"She is... I believe she will be here tonight."

"Other plans, if re-elected?"

"The banking regulations Nick and I have discussed."

"And if you lose? Will you leave politics?"

"I have always been a political animal. I will not take a loss personally. I see this vote as a referendum on whether citizens want a small units in the ZPD now. And I will support the wishes of the citizens when I return to public life. And I will work for the inclusion of smalls, as well as banking reform. In the meantime, I haven't had a real vacation in over ten years. Nick's talk of the Sahel region has made me want to go visit family in Serengeti. I plan to visit for a couple weeks, and maybe take a week or two for some fishing after that. If I lose I will start my vacation by the end of the week."

"Before Nick is sworn in?"

"This election has been unlike any other. I don't want the news to ask me for my opinion, I just gave it to you. I will support him. His feelings won't be hurt if I take a vacation. And Wilma Deering can run the things very well in my absence."

"Detective Wilde, Mayor Lionheart says your feelings won't be–"

"He is correct. We think a lot alike. If Leodore had realized the value of a short ZPD this election wouldn't have been necessary."

The lion coughed, "Excuse me, but while Nick and I think very much alike, you can't change a whole city at once. If Nick realized the virtue of patience this election wouldn't have been necessary."

A few reporters spoke with Lylah Nyte, "Detective Nyte, who did you vote for?"

"Officer Nyte, for now, and that's none of your business. I will say I think Zootopia had two good candidates. Period."

"Mayor Lionheart has said you're on his list of potential Commissioners. Will you comment?"

"I'm flattered, but think it will go a more experienced officer. This time. Next time I'll be more experienced and have a better shot."

"I was told you'd been assigned to third shift. Isn't that unusual for an officer of your experience? Was that part of Bash Mustapha's retaliation?"

"A ZPD officer accepts the assignment given without complaining. You didn't hear Wilde complain about the Sahel shift, did you? Chief Bogo expected I'd be returned to detective soon, but placed me where he thought I could fill a need until then."

There were several lies in what she said, but she felt no need to give them the truth. Her tentative romance with Officer Bagheera had always stumbled because of the difficulty over finding time to be together due to their different shifts. The budding relationship, and its obstacles, were known around the First and Bogo and the third shift Captain put the two together in a squad car. The two were both professionals, but at three in the morning, with the city absolutely quiet, they had sometimes yielded to temptation and enjoyed some 'cuddle time' in the back seat. The Captain's traditional warning of, "Be careful out there," had been interpreted as "Don't get caught doing anything that would embarrass the department."

The Mayor asked Doc Wheeler for an introduction to Elsa Adamson. It was a strained meeting, at least on her part. He maintained his, 'guy you want to drink a beer with' persona.

"I don't like you," she reminded him. "I thought you were wrong with the whole Night Howler thing."

"The courts agreed with you. I'm not here to talk about the past, I'm looking at the future. I'd like to hire you as a campaign manager the next time I run for office."

"I just said I don't like you."

"Not asking you to. Do you like all your employers? Nick's campaign impressed me. It was refreshingly different."

"And that was him, I take no credit. I wanted to rip your guts out."

"But you were flexible and able to adapt to the candidate. I fear Quale, my manager, only had attack ads in his repertoire. I want someone who is sensitive to the specific campaign."

She hesitated, it was an attractive offer. "If Nick wins, I won't work for you in a campaign against him."

"I consider loyalty to your candidate a virtue, but I think I can safely assure you I'll never campaign against Nick again."

Two of the first precincts reporting totals went for Lionheart, but they had been projected for Lionheart since the recall was announced and it came as no surprise. Voter turnout in other precincts had always been seen as the deciding factor. Heavier than expected turnout had been reported all day, and as results began coming in Nick's total passed that of the Mayor, and the the margin of victory continued to grow. At ten Lionheart conceded defeat. The news media reported he accepted defeat with unusual grace and continued to enjoy the party, although many of his supporters were subdued and some left early.

As the party broke up Mayor Lionheart had this prediction for the reporters, "You will have Leodore Lionheart to kick around again."

* * *

"I really, really want this to be over," Nick grumbled as he sat at the Mayor's desk in City Hall. He had not been sworn into office yet, but the office had been made available when Lionheart went on vacation.

"It is over, you won the election," Wilma Deering reminded him.

"This is even worse than the election, who am I meeting now?"

"Head of Public Works. Chair of the City Council at two."

The fox was sworn into office before addressing the City Council. The meeting room was packed with spectators and reporters. "Well, it's my first Council meeting as Mayor... I expect you all knew that already," brought some laughter and spectators and Council members relaxed slightly. "I campaigned because I want the police department expanded to include small officers. That is a major policy change for the city, and I won't ask you to vote on it tonight, or to accept the task force proposal because I proposed it. You are not here to simply ratify the Mayor, you are here to keep city government accountable to the residents of Zootopia. I hope you remember that in the recent election voters said they wanted the police department expanded to include all sizes. But I'm suggesting the Council not vote for two weeks to give you time to look over the proposal and ask questions."

The motion was made, and passed, to consider the proposal for the expansion of the ZPD in two weeks.

"I do have some minor business for this evening. All department heads know my goal of ZPD expansion. I've been meeting with them frequently since the election. The expansion will require work. Two have said they may retire within the year, but I'm pleased to report all department heads have agreed to stay on. I believe a change of this size requires experienced leaders to succeed. Those who plan to retire will remain at their posts until they can train a well qualified animal to replace them – and of course after you confirm them. The post of Police Commissioner is currently open. I wish to nominate Rudyard Akela for this position. He has served as head of the Police Academy for years, and done an excellent job with increasing the number of shorts in the ZPD. He has the skills to guide the department as Commissioner, and the trust of officers. Is there any discussion?"

The motion was made, almost without discussion, and passed to appoint the new Commissioner.

"Zootopia now finds itself in need of a new Head of the Police Academy. I would like to nominate William T. Whiskers. He taught at the Academy for twenty years, and served on the Task Force for Small Integration. If the Council approves the proposal for ZPD expansion there is no more qualified individual to insure implementation. Even if the Council doesn't approve the Task Force recommendations Whiskers is a thoroughly qualified individual."

Once again, the motion went through smoothly. Nick might have wished the old goat wasn't quite as pessimistic, but still trusted him.

Nick turned to the spectators in the room. "My campaign had one focus. But there is a second major proposal. Members of the City Council have copies already. Copies are now available on the Zootopia website for public examination. The city had grown tremendously since the last revision of the rules for city government were written. The rules have not been amended in decades. It is virtually impossible for a citizen group to get a referendum on the ballot. No one thought of it when the City Charter was written. It was ridiculously easy for a fox to begin a recall campaign – the number of signatures required was established when the city was one tenth its current size. As the city has grown so have the responsibilities of the Assistant Mayor – which are not defined in the Charter. Most Assistant Mayors have done excellent jobs. There was one exception to that fifty years ago. There was another exception recently with Dawn Bellweather. Even before the election Mayor Lionheart and I began meeting with Department heads and Council members to design a City Manager structure for the city. I've met privately with all members of the Council since my election and gotten their input. Six proposed versions are on the website. They are all more than ninety percent the same. There are minor variations in terms of what departments will answer directly to the City Manager and other points. Differences are highlighted in the copies. The City Manager will be nominated by the Mayor, but can not be removed by the Mayor after confirmation by the City Council. The Council can remove the City Manager with a two-thirds vote. I want citizens to look over the proposal and voice their opinions. If any of these proposals passes in two weeks – and all Council members have said they want to amend the charter to a City Manager plan – there will be no office of Assistant Mayor in future elections.

"In my discussions with department heads and Council members I have not mentioned my nominee for City Manager. I will nominate Wilma Deering for the position. She has already performed most of the duties as Assistant Mayor and this will enable Zootopia to work smoothly in this transition period."

The meeting erupted into the expected chaos. Most of the questions in the question and answer session could be answered with, "That would be the same in all the proposals," or "That is an issue addressed in some of the version." It was nearly midnight when the meeting was adjourned.

Detective Judy Hopps was assigned to the Mayor's office. Detectives were not usually given the job, but the Mayor had made the request. The Mayor had made several requests of the detective, all of which were turned down. Being caught having sex on the Mayor's desk was completely inappropriate, in her opinion. The hours were long, and he spent a lot of time talking with news outlets about the City Manager proposals. The day after the Council met the public had been strongly against it changing the laws of the charter. By late in the week, as the proposals were discussed, the mood of the city had swung behind the restructuring. Proposals three and five had the strongest support. Nick had favored the second himself, but was willing to go with any of them. At least Lionheart's favorite, the first, wasn't one of the more popular plans either.

* * *

Two weeks after his first City Council meeting Nick called the special meeting of the Council to order. Leodore Lionheart sat beside Vaughn Wheeler in the first row of spectators. Mrs. Bardoka sat with them. Nick noticed a Kodiak bear among those standing at the back of the room. After forty-five minutes of debate among Council members and questions from the public the Task Force recommendations were accepted by the City Council. There was applause from the spectators.

It took longer before a vote could be held on the City Manager plan. Time for speakers in support for one version or another of the six plans had to be limited to three minutes in order to the meeting didn't last for days. Finally the third proposal was accepted.

After the exhausting debate in regard to city restructuring Wilma Deering was confirmed as Zootopia's first City Manager without discussion. Council members, the public, and the news media drew sighs of relief in anticipation of adjournment.

"One very small item not on the agenda," Nick warned. "Hopefully this will only take a minute. I am turning in my resignation from the position of Mayor. I ran on one issue. The City Council has approved the plan from the Task Force on Small Inclusion."

Chaos reigned. Nick eventually managed to quiet the spectators. There had been a number of shouts against a small Mayor. "I hope the microphones picked up the calls against Vaughn Wheeler as Mayor. It reflects there is still a long way to go for equality for all sizes. But Doctor Vaughn Wheeler is not my Assistant Mayor."

More chaos. Nick regained the attention of those there, "Doc Wheeler withdrew his name from the ticket on the last day possible. There was no time to change the ballots prior to the election, so it went forward with his name on the ticket."

There were a few boos, some calls of "FRAUD!," and more calls of "Who then?"

"Actually, my Assistant Mayor is Leodore Lionheart, who will assume the office of Mayor on my resignation."

The meeting room endured another round of chaos. When order was restored Mrs. Bardoka was asked to speak. "On the final day to amend election filings, the twenty-ninth of last month, Vaughn Wheeler withdrew his name from Nicholas Wilde's campaign and Leodore Lionheart filed for the position. The papers were duly notarized and recorded before noon, as required by law. As Mayor Wilde pointed out, however, at that point in time ballots had already been printed and there was no time to change them prior to the election."

"Why weren't we told," someone shouted.

Nick answered, "The Records Office is not required to publicize every paper that is filed. The papers were properly filed and available in the Records Office for anyone to see. There were no requests to view the filing papers."

There was still some grumbling, and a shout of "Something should have been said. Why this deception?"

"I will mention that Missus Bardoka objected to the filing, feeling it wasn't appropriate. But it was entirely legal. I will explain my motivation. I had a suspicion that the so-called Phantom Vandal might actually have been someone who supported my candidacy – who thought angering voters would create a bigger turnout for the election. I had no proof of my suspicion at that time, but did not want to my election tainted with such activity. There was no voter fraud, no ballot boxes were stuffed, but the fear and anger directed at large species was used as a tool to get more voters out. As I said, I had no proof at the time. But I explained my fears to Vaughn Wheeler and Leodore Lionheart and said I did not want to serve as Mayor if it proved true. I offered this as a solution. I have uncovered evidence that my fear was correct. I do not wish to serve as Mayor with that taint hanging over me. I believe Mayor Lionheart will work to bring about the small units in the ZPD the voters want, and believe his experience will enable it to move smoothly forward. I applaud his plans for banking regulation as well. Zootopia will be well served, going forward, as he has led in the past."

There were still a few boos and catcalls. Nick reminded those at the meeting, "If anyone voted for me simply they didn't like Leodore Lionheart that individual has every right to feel betrayed. But I never asked for votes against Mayor Lionheart. I asked for votes from those who supported expansion of the Police Department so that smalls would enjoy equal protection. The vote tonight began that process. It will happen. But we won't wake up tomorrow and find fully functioning units of small officers. It will take time. And it will take the efforts of experienced office holders. I always maintained that Leodore has done a lot of good for the city. Okay, he's not perfect. And it's pretty clear I'm not either. But he has committed to seeing the vote the Council made tonight will become reality."

Lionheart rose and walked to Nick's side. He draped an arm over the fox's shoulder, "This is the shortest any Mayor has served Zootopia, and yet he has managed two major changes. He's the shortest in other ways as well." The lion held his other paw out to indicate Nick's height relative to his own. "And yet I dare say he shall be long remembered as a giant of a Mayor."

Nick poked Leodore in the ribs with an elbow. "You're getting pompous again," he warned.

"Dignity," the Mayor told, "it is a reflection of the dignity of office."

"I still say you sound pompous."

Lionheart insisted Nick remain beside him as he was sworn back into office. "We may need to answer some joint questions," he told the fox.

There were surprisingly few questions. News reporters wanted to get to work on writing the biggest surprise in Zootopia politics in years.

Judy came up to Nick as the room emptied, "So, you're now ex-Mayor Wilde."

"Yep. But I gave the Commissioner a heads up on what was going to happen. He restored my rank. I'm Detective Wilde again. And I'm hoping Alces will pair me with this sexy rabbit detective at the First."

"Sexy rabbit detective thinks the two of us should do something to celebrate tonight."

"Public celebration at a club, or a private celebration?"

"Private. I've had to share you with the city for too long. I want you all to myself."

"I like how you think." He handed her his car keys. "I'll be out in a minute, I think I see someone I need to talk to."

He walked to the side of the room where the Kodiak stood, and found Chelsea Dagger. She seemed to expect he would come over to speak with her.

"How did you know I was behind the vandalism?"

"Oh, it was obviously the work of someone good."

"I didn't think we left any evidence."

"You didn't, that was what first raised my suspicions."

"So how did you know? You said you had proof I did it."

"I lied. There was no evidence until you admitted it right now. I asked myself who was good enough to leave no evidence behind, and would profit from the vandalism. It was a short list. It's called a hustle, sweetheart. I say I know you did it, and you admit you did it.

"What do you plan to do?"

Nick shrugged, "What can I do? Police sometimes know who committed a crime, but don't have evidence for a court to convict. There is no evidence. If I claim you admitted it, you'll just deny it. I just hope Big is paying you enough you'll go straight."

"You've got no idea how much this is worth... Problem is I'm not ready yet for all I'm getting out of this. I need to get into Zoo U and take some business courses. Uh, just as a matter of question... Do you happen to know if Doc Wheeler is married?"

"Vaughn? He's not. Why?"

"He... He seems like a smart animal... I mean, if I have trouble with a course or something maybe he... Just curious."

"Single. Give him a call if you need help." Vaughn Wheeler's degree was in medicine. Nick was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to help with questions for a business course. And he wasn't sure why it would make a difference if the hamster was married or not, at least it would make no difference if the Dagger simply wanted help with a university course. Nick considered giving a Doc Wheeler a word of warning, but decided to let Vaughn be surprised.

* * *

A very happy fox and a very happy rabbit lay beside each other in his bed, staring at the ceiling in a slightly dazed, but satisfied way. "Greatest stress relief in the world," he managed to utter.

"Oh yeah," she agreed. "Last couple months have been crazy."

"Judy?"

"Uh-huh."

"I know you had your heart set on marrying the Mayor of Zootopia. I'm pretty sure Leodore is already married. Any chance you'd settle for marrying a humble police detective?"

She was silent for a moment, "I don't think I know any humble police detectives."

"Hmmm... Well then, if there's no competition for the job, think you could marry me?"

She rolled over and gave him a kiss. "I was starting to be afraid you'd never ask."

"So, that's a yes?"

"I told you a month ago the answer was yes whenever you wanted to ask, remember?"

"At the moment the only things in my head are how incredible the last half hour was, and how much I love you."

Judy giggled as she snuggled up against him. "Just think, if you'd ask me to marry you months ago we might be curled up in bed together right now, basking in afterglow."

"We are in bed together basking in afterglow."

"Oh... Apparently my head isn't working right now either. I love you."

He kissed the top of her head, "Hope you keep loving me even when your brain is back in gear."

-The End-


End file.
